Twilight's Tears
by Sacrificial-Salvation
Summary: Living in the glittering society of 18th century London, Eriol, the duke of Clynester, did not believe in love. Still, a part of his heart subconsciously cried out for someone who would love him for who he was...
1. Why must I?

Disclaimer: CCS does not legally belong to me.got that? That doesn't make my story less original in any way. Why? Because if I just change the characters' names then this story and its characters would be purely mine. The fact that I do not do so shows how much I love CCS. Enough of my babbling. Enjoy.  
  
Chap. 1: Why must I?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eriol stood at his huge windows and watched the sun flare a brilliant red as it ended its journey for the day at Clynester. Beneath his view of the sunset, everything and everyone seemed to be in a hurry; the streets were crowded with carriages and people, mostly women, moved as if they were trapped in some sort of a fast addictive rhythm as they scuttled about in a frenzy.  
  
Despite his appearance, Eriol was quite annoyed, but even the most perceptive person could not tell that he was feeling such an emotion. On the exterior, he looked like he was content; his face was carefully set in a mask of indifference, while inside, he seethed with annoyance and barely contained irritation. Without looking more closely at the frantic figures, he could already guess what they were doing. The women of his aristocratic class were probably either picking up final materials for their elaborate apparels or getting their coiffures finished to perfection for a ball. His ball.  
  
He could already predict what would happen at his event and he was thoroughly disgusted. As usual, hordes of available young ladies would approach him and try to hold his attention. They would try to get him to offer for them and marry them, but not because they loved him sincerely...as usual. He knew they didn't love him that way and they knew that he knew. Despite that, they tried their best to make him believe that they truly cared. What they really wanted from him was the popularity and the guarantee of infinite money that could be lavished on jewels and furs that came with his title. They wanted his presence to give them a chance to be in the spotlight...permanently. All in all, he thought that they looked at him as if he was a plate of well-dished trout and they were some hungry, starving children. Maybe some of them thought of him as a bank draft on legs?  
  
He wondered how he had allowed his mother to talk him into such a ridiculous idea. Maybe it was because he knew that in the disguise of a softly worded suggestion, his mother had given her "imperial" command and although, he could refuse (he was, after all, the Duke of Clynester), he hadn't the heart to deny his mother her one desire. However, just because he had allowed it didn't mean that he had to like it, and he did not like it one bit.  
  
Raking his eyes contemptuously for the final time over the busy crowd, he drew further into his house where more decorations and preparations for the ball were being done. 


	2. No Choice

All Disclaimers apply.  
  
Chap. 2  
  
  
  
Tomoyo crashed against the wall with a sickening thud, unable to stop. Biting her lips to hold back a sob of pain that tried to make its way past her lips, she slowly staggered to her feet, using a nearby table as a fulcrum. Her eyes were shadowed with pain even as they sparkled with determination and defiance, and blood flowed from her mouth, the rusty color giving a severe contrast to her white complexion.  
  
"Now, my dear, have you learned your lesson? Will you be obedient to me?" her father asked as a sadistic grin made its across his face. " Or do you need to be persuaded once again?" He laughed, amused, as twin amethyst orbs looked up at him with hatred and loathing. "No..." he said a trace thoughtfully, "I didn't think that you would surrender so easily. What else would I have expected from you, the daughter of the lowest bitch who I was forced to call my wife?"  
  
Humiliation and desperation ignited into rage and anger inside Tomoyo as he insulted her mother, and she drew herself up in indignation. " My mother," she spat into his face, " was worth more than ten of you put together. Don't you dare try to insult her!  
  
He grabbed the front of her gown and dragged her forward to slap her hard. " Your mother," he whispered venomously, " was a loose woman and a whore at that." His hard face features rearranged themselves into a evil smile. " Repeat it after me. ' My mother was a whore.'" he commanded. "Say it!"  
  
"No!" Tomoyo jerked loose and backed away at the cruel look in his eyes. " If she was what you say she was, it was because of you! Do you have any idea what she went through? You raped her in a field and you abandoned her. You abandoned me..." she cried with unshed tears in her voice. " Who am I to blame, my lord?" she asked her father mockingly. " Should I blame a kinless woman who tried to keep herself and her child alive by taking the only path she can? You do remember, don't you? You remember that you ruined her reputation beyond recall when you took her. No decent man wanted to take her as their wife after that." Her eyes shimmered with contained hurt and pain as she remembered her childhood memories. " She sacrificed herself to save me," she cried. " She sacrificed herself to save the product of your forced union. Later, when you were compelled to come back for her by the King of England himself after he heard of your treacherous deed, she married you, not for you, but for me. She did not care what she gave up as long as I was safe," Tomoyo said viciously. " She thought it was too late for her, but for me...she told me I had a chance at happiness."  
  
Tomoyo looked up, hoping to see pain etched on his face, just once, but she was disappointed. She saw the opposite of what she hoped to see. He was smiling. Damn him! Fresh anger poured into her like a hot acid. " Do you know what you are?" she said in a soft voice loaded with poison. " You're a despicable, self-centered, cruel bastard!"  
  
His smile vanished at that fearless statement and was replaced by hate almost equal to her own. He suddenly lunged forward and pinned her against the wall by her throat. " You will do as I say," he whispered in an implacable tone. " You will go to the ball that the duke of Clynester has planned, and you will snare a suitable husband to repay my debts. God knows, you already have the looks."  
  
" Why can't you pay your own debts?" she hissed. " Why should I save you from the debtor's prison? For all you've done to me, I could kill you and more."  
  
Chuckling, her father stroked her cheek while Tomoyo turned her head. " I know you will, because you have no chance of keeping your reputation if rumor were to say that your father was bankrupt. No one will want you, no one will accept you...just like your mother wasn't accepted. You would be a public disgrace, and the ton would gossip about you. Is that what you want?" he breathed. "Also, if you want your mother to be buried properly with the complete ridiculous, elaborate burial that is common of the nobility, I need money. Otherwise, your mother's body will be left to rot on the outskirts of London."  
  
Tomoyo stilled at the last statement. Though she wanted to destroy her father whether she was disgrace or not, the thought of her mother being left to be eaten by dogs and carrion birds was more than she could bear. " When is the party?" she asked finally, feeling frustrated at her helplessness.  
  
He smiled. " I knew you would see things my way."  
  
" No," she said. " My loyalty is not to you, but my mother. You should be rotting out there! My mother doesn't deserve any of that. I can't...no...I won't abandon her like you did." " How much do you need?" she asked.  
  
" 100,000 pounds," he answered promptly, enjoying her surprise. " You thought you could get one of those admiring beaus of yours to pay my debt for me until you could pay them back in some way, didn't you? Well, missy, your schemes are not going to work this time. Only a husband would be willing to pay such a huge sum to help you."  
  
Tomoyo sighed in despair. " What shall I wear?" she asked tiredly.  
  
" You may spend all you wish to make yourself desirable in the eyes of the men at the party. Just know," he said with a curl of his lips, " that you will have to pay me back." 


	3. Eriol's Prediction Comes True

All Disclaimers apply  
  
Chap. 3  
  
Eriol smoothed his look of annoyance into an inscrutable mask as another group of eligible females and their mothers moved toward him like some kind of gruesome army bent on getting their claws in their prey. With almost flawless timing and brilliant maneuvers, the group advanced in a manner equivalent of a young Napolean Bonaparte laying siege to a particularly tricky castle. A small smile touched his lips partly in irritation and partly in amusement; no matter what they did, he saw through all of their schemes. Making his decision quickly, he moved in the opposite direction, away from where he had stood moments before, shattering the hopes of that particular group.  
  
I need a break. He sighed with relief as the coast seemed clear and headed toward the double doors leading to his gardens. As expected, he was interrupted once again when pudgy woman moved into his path, blocking his exit.  
  
" My, my, your grace!" Lady Mitcham said, sinking into a clumsy curtsey. " I didn't expect you see you here!"  
  
Eriol felt like rolling his eyes heavenward, but restrained himself. " Why would I not be here, Lady Mitcham? Am I not the host?" he said in a bland, innocent tone.  
  
" Why yes...of course!" she hastily tried to assure him. " It's just that...well...you don't attend many of these events during the Season. I assumed that the dowager duchess would play hostess..." she trailed off, seeing the mildly impatient expression on his face. " It's not that you're unable, of course, your grace," she quickly added. Eriol inclined his dark head in acceptance and made to move past her, but the lady engaged him in another conversation, loath to lose her chance to introduce her daughter. " Oh my, forgive me, your grace," she said falsely apologetic. " How forgetful I'm today! It never crossed my mind to introduce my daughter to you." With that, she waved forward a pretty blond woman who was fluttering her eyelashes at him in a coquettish manner. " This," she said triumphantly, seeing that the other women were practically seething with jealousy, " is Margaret, my first."  
  
"Charmed, I'm sure," Eriol responded, his voice tinged with sarcasm that escaped the notice of both the mother and the daughter. " Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."  
  
As he turned away, another mother waylaid him. " Your grace, I would like for you to meet my daughter, Katherine. She's already received many offers from several gentlemen this week..."  
  
Eriol brushed her aside. " If that is so, Lady Raleigh, my compliments to you. I highly recommend that you marry her off to one of them."  
  
He grimaced as yet another woman approached him.  
  
" Your grace-"  
  
" I'm sorry, Lady Wickham," he interrupted. " Though I would like to stay, I've been informed of an urgent matter. Excuse me," he said quickly and abruptly walked outside.  
  
" Oh dear," said Lady Wickham. " I think that went quite well. I do think, Lizzy," she said, turning to her daughter, " that he fancies you." 


	4. Lord Eddington's Unrequitted Love

Chap. 4  
  
Shadows filled the large garden and the maze that made it up. It was beautiful, yet intricate, and it was easy for an untrained eye to pass secret entrances by. Still, it was far from dark. Soft moonlight lighted the way for lovers, except no lovers wandered in this grove; it belonged to the powerful Duke of Clynester, and he had decreed that no one enter his private sanctuary. This was his special place; this was the only way he could escape from the cacophony and busy schedule of his social life. Tonight, however, it was different. Though other people weren't in the lush gardens, two people could be seen inside the forbidden puzzle of Eriol's refuge.  
  
  
  
***  
  
" Lady Tomoyo, you are sweeter than Aphrodite herself. You are radiant in your beauty and perfect in every form..." Lord Eddington said, mouthing platitudes to her. " Your fragrance is exquisite and your complexion is like the purest cream..." His wandering gaze shifted from her face to the bodice of her gown where her creamy swells were exposed enticingly.  
  
  
  
" My Lord Eddington, what shall I have to say to convince you that I have absolutely no interest in you?" Tomoyo said, frustrated and annoyed. "I've already told you three times. Should I repeat it iagaini for you? I do NOT like you or feel affection for you in any way," she said, lifting her chin high, her amethyst eyes scornful.  
  
  
  
The lord continued, oblivious to most of what she said. "Nothing will convince me! Tomoyo, you have stolen my heart!" he cried, moving forward and backing her against the wall of the garden. " I am your servant, lady, forever!"  
  
  
  
"Nonsense!" she retorted angrily. " You are not my servant, and I'll thank you to stop looking at me in that...that manner!"  
  
  
  
His face features seemed to harden, and Tomoyo thought she saw a glimpse of something sinister and sly reflected in his face for a fleeting moment. He seemed...different...somehow and she wasn't sure she liked it. Quite the contrary, it alarmed her exceedingly.  
  
  
  
" I can't help looking at you so." he said, almost lovingly. "You are as lovely as a goddess." His face altered abruptly, twisting into an ugly mask. " And if I can't have you, no one will!" Lord Eddington said in an savage voice. He pressed her against the wall and leaned toward her, trying to capture her lips with his.  
  
  
  
" No. No. No!" Tomoyo said, struggling to break free, and winced at the bruises forming on her arms. " Don't do this!" Fear and trepidation moved across her pale face. "Please!"  
  
  
  
" Can it be?" Eddington sneered. " Can it be that the ice princess is afraid of love?" He grasped her tighter. " I'll teach you what it means to scorn i me I," he said, almost shaking her in fury. " You should be happy that I would even offer myself to you," he spat out. " You should fall at my feet, grateful for such an honor!"  
  
  
  
Rage warred with fear in her heart and won. Gathering up her courage, she straightened and stared into his eyes with cold hauteur. " My, my," she said mockingly, " Aren't we a little vain today?" " Just to let you know, I despise your fashion sense, your manners, and your meaningless flattery. I also think that your outrageous costume makes you look like an overfed pig. Have I insulted you enough for you to leave me alone?" she asked. " Or should I continue?"  
  
  
  
Lord Eddington's lips formed a tight line. " Looking at you now, I wonder what I saw in you," he said. " You are not a lady in any sense of the word. However, you shall not easily escape unpunished." With that, he lifted his hand to strike her.  
  
  
  
" What a gentleman you are," Tomoyo said, her voice literally dripping with sarcasm. " Now you have to hit women for satisfaction."  
  
  
  
Frustrated and enraged beyond reason, he snarled a curse and slapped her. " You bitch!" He lifted his hand to strike her again; Tomoyo closed her eyes and braced herself for the contact...but it never came. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see an expression of shock and fear written on Eddington's face. A smooth, large hand had gripped the lord's wrist in midair.  
  
  
  
" I was not aware that cursing and hitting females was part of the decorum of being a gentlemen," stated the masculine voice softly. Tomoyo looked up to her savior's face to see the clearest blue eyes she had ever seen, and she found herself drowning slowly in the blue depths of his mesmerizing gaze.  
  
  
  
  
  
*** 


	5. Enter the Duke of Clynester

Chap. 5  
  
The small clearing seemed to be surrounded with a silence so heavy that it seemed almost tangible as the two men remained still as statues. Her savior was so unbearably handsome; his cerulean eyes were clear and soft as he looked at her, though he couldn't exactly see her. But when his gaze moved to the other man, his azure eyes became commanding, imperious, hard, and- how could she describe it? -.keen. When her rescuer finally spoke, the silence seemed to have reached a level of such tension, that it was a while before she realized words were coming out of his mouth.  
  
The unknown man looked at Lord Eddington with contained disgust and revulsion. "Should I inform the rest of the ton of this little incident of yours, Eddington?" he asked coolly. "I did not think even a fop like you would sink so low as to hit a helpless woman, especially a lady, at my party of all places."  
  
Tomoyo's brain slowly registered what the man said. Did the man just say that it was his party, or was she just hallucinating? He just couldn't be who she thought he was, could he? This couldn't be.him?  
  
" Your grace!" Eddington exclaimed , obviously slightly panicked. " I did not mean-" He cut himself off seeing the Eriol's face harden into an implacable mask. Eddington abruptly changed tact. " Your grace," he said, trying to compose himself. "Lady Daidouji happened to fall and I was just helping her up." Eddington gestured helpfully to a woman whose face Eriol could not see because dark shadows obscured his view.  
  
  
  
Eriol tapped his foot impatiently. " Really?" he said sardonically. " And I suppose the ground just happened to hit her on the cheek? And how would you explain the fact that I saw you in the damning act itself?"  
  
  
  
Lord Eddington lost his composure and his temper. "So what if I did!" he snapped irritably. "That woman was looking down her nose at me! She bloody deserved it!"  
  
  
  
"Don't," Eriol whispered in a dangerously soft voice, " use that tone in front of me." The lord squirmed uncomfortably. " You will take your filthy hands off of her and go inside, you understand?" he said in a tone of one used to giving orders and having them obeyed. Eddington was visibly shaken by the duke's cold manner of addressing him. "You will enter from another door to make sure that this lady's reputation remains intact," Eriol added meaningfully. "And if I find that you disobeyed what I told you now, I will make you regret the day you were born."  
  
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Sry to those who wanted longer chapters. It seemed to me that this was the perfect time to cut off the story this time. I couldn't bring myself to continue. Look on the bright side, though. The updates will be more frequent. I can understand that it may be frustrating when you're waiting for the next chapter, but I use chapters to organize my story and to give use as a way of giving my story a certain mood. Thus, I've come up with an idea to satisfy both you and me. I'll try to update two chapters as soon at the same time. Of course, this depends upon whether I have free time. ^_^.sayonara. 


	6. Tomoyo's First Kiss

Chap. 6  
  
Tomoyo gulped as his heated blue gaze moved from Eddington's retreating back to where she was hiding in the shadows. "You can come out now, you know," he said, gently, a trifle amused. "Nobody is here to pounce on you, my lady."  
  
  
  
When she still hesitated, his amusement grew, and his lips lifted slightly into something that resembled a smile. "Are you still afraid?" he asked. "What is there to be afraid of?" He carefully reached out with catlike grace and snared her wrist, pulling her forward into the light. "There. Was that so bad?" he said, his white teeth flashing in a mesmerizing smile that would have sent the majority of the female population into fainting fits. Tomoyo was not totally impervious to his grin either; her knees seemed to have turned into jelly as she looked up at his handsome face. "This way, with you in the light, I can actually see who I'm talking to. I tell you, it's very disconcerting to feel someone's eyes on you and not be able to look back at them," he said in response to what he misinterpreted as a puzzled look on her face.  
  
  
  
"Oh," she said idiotically and immediately felt embarrassed. "I see." She looked down in humiliation, knowing how the incident he'd witnessed just now with Eddington must have looked. What woman would have been so stupid and naïve to go walking about the huge, sprawling gardens and mazes without a reliable escort? Shamed to the very depths of her soul, she studied every crack in the ground as if it were the most fascinating thing that ever existed in the world.  
  
  
  
Cool hands lifted her chin up and long fingers traced her scarlet cheek, sending tingles down her spine. "Are you all right?" he asked. With a frown, he examined the faint bruises that marred her porcelain white skin. "These will heal quickly," he said finally, releasing her face. "I suppose you must get inside now." He gently grasped her arm to escort her to the open French doors that led to the ballroom and was surprised when she flinched and pulled away. "What is the matter?" he asked, tailing her footsteps as she moved backwards.  
  
  
  
"Nothing is the matter," Tomoyo replied, tugging her sleeve down further to try to cover her arm. "Absolutely nothing, your grace. Now, I'd appreciate it if you would leave me alone for a few minutes."  
  
  
  
"That is a highly improbably suggestion, my lady. I cannot possibly leave you hurt and vulnerable." He gently grabbed her wrist, pulled the sleeve of her gown up, and froze. Dark imprints in the shape of a large hand covered her delicate arm. "Who did this to you?" he asked, his eyes turning a dark silvery gray as they glittered dangerously. "Did Eddington do this to you?" he questioned, barely keeping himself from shaking her to make her answer. He stared into her violet eyes filled with pain and unshed tears and his tone instantly softened. "It wasn't him," he practically stated. "It was someone closer to you, wasn't it?"  
  
  
  
"It's not any of your business," she snapped, but there was no mistaking the sorrow and fear in her big, beautiful, eyes. Tears, crystal tears, slid down her face, and Eriol wondered how something so painful could be so beautiful. "It's not any of your business!" she suddenly cried when she saw concern etched on his face. "Shouldn't you go inside? You've been here entirely too long."  
  
  
  
Now, that.was.strange and true. He had been here a longer time than needed, lavishing attention on a woman who, miraculously, did not want the attention he gave. That needed some serious though and reflection. Was he falling in love.with her?  
  
  
  
No. That was all nonsense. The duke of Clynester did NOT love, much less attach himself to anyone. But, he knew that he would eventually have to get an heir for his title and wealth. Life, he thought, was very unfair.  
  
  
  
"Well?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Will you go away?"  
  
  
  
Eriol nodded. "Make sure you enter from another door when you come back in, or else there will be unnecessary gossip," he said curtly and turned to go, but the corner of his vision he saw tears welling up in her eyes again. Torn between turning away-she didn't want his help before, didn't she?-and obeying the intense-and insane-urge to comfort her, he finally chose the latter. He pulled her small, trembling body into his arms and embraced her. "What is it, little one?" he asked softly. He held her tightly while she struggled to escape.  
  
  
  
"I'm not weak, damn you!" she cried. "I can take care of myself." Yet, contrary to her words, she could not resist when he offered her the only comfort she had ever received after her mother's death. She buried her dark head in his chest and sobbed her heart out in the arms of the man she did not even know.  
  
  
  
"Please. Please don't cry," he asked of her, after which he became highly perplexed. He was begging someone not to cry? Why the hell should he care? Trying to shake off that feeling and convince himself that he was only trying to comfort her, he pulled her even closer.  
  
  
  
That was a big mistake. At this close proximity, he could smell and feel every inch of her voluptuous body pressing against his. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore the exquisite softness of her skin or the scent of her fragrant hair.or her full, luscious red lips that seemed to beckon to him to kiss them.  
  
  
  
Even as he tried to keep himself in check, he realized that he couldn't hold himself back much longer. And while his mind shouted at him to let her go, his body didn't seem to respond; he noticed, surprisingly, that he was loathe to release her. His eyes were fixed on her lips, and again, for the first time, his will gave way to his heart. He wanted to kiss her. He needed to kiss her.  
  
  
  
"Look at me," he commanded and gently lifted her chin. Azure and amethyst met and locked in one profound moment. Tomoyo found that she couldn't breathe or move, or tear her eyes away; dark blue orbs entangled them in its depths and held them fixed to it. Her throb of her blood drummed in her ears and she could only hear a distant roar as his lips moved toward hers.  
  
  
  
"Your gr-" His lips covered hers and when she gasped in shock, his tongue slid into the warm cavern of her mouth. Eriol felt her body turning into wood in his arms. With his lips and his hands, he coaxed and seduced her, urging her to relax and participate in his intimate kiss, but he got the opposite; she tried to pull away from him. Tightening his hold, he held her head immobile as he gently ground his lips into hers, reshaping hers to fit his until she surrendered to his onslaught and melted in his arms. Forbidden pleasure streaked through her body and her blood raced as she wrapped her arms around his neck in sweet submission. She drowned in the skillful spell he was weaving around her even as alarm bells clanged in her mind. The assault to her sense overcame her sense of caution, and muffled it until she could hear it no more.  
  
  
  
****************  
  
"Have you seen Lady Tomoyo by any chance?" a woman asked. "I do say, I haven't seen her in quite a while."  
  
  
  
"His grace is also missing," added another young woman with a frown.  
  
  
  
"You won't find them here," drawled Lord Eddington in a malicious voice. "You see, I saw them together in the gardens. I wasn't sure what they were doing, however."  
  
  
  
The women's eyes widened. "You don't say they were."  
  
  
  
"Exactly."  
  
  
  
A young woman in a rich blue gown burst into tears. "That is so.unfair. I had planned to meet his grace today."  
  
  
  
Eddington's eyes glinted. "Not to worry, my lady. I am here."  
  
  
  
The woman peeked at him through her sooty eyelashes. "Why, my lord!"  
  
  
  
"Why don't we discuss this in a more.ah.private atmosphere?" he said, leading the lady away with a grin, satisfied that other women appreciated him.  
  
  
  
The remaining women gossiped among themselves. "Do you realize," asked Lady Bloomdale, "that we have the most delicious on-dit?" The women twittered.  
  
  
  
In a quarter of an hour, the entire ton had heard the gossip about what had supposedly happened between Lady Tomoyo and the Duke of Clynester. 


	7. This is NOT love

Chap. 7  
  
As reality returned, Eriol realized that he was still holding the violet- eyed women in his arms as if he was a young, untried boy who sought-no, begged-a woman he admired to bestow a small token on him. For God's sake, he was holding a woman who he had met only minutes before in a secluded area like he was her lover. He was crazy. He was insane. He was positively sure that he had lost his mind.  
  
  
  
Cursing himself in every derogatory manner, he abruptly loosened his hold on the dark-haired temptress standing in front of him and pushed her away. Oh God, if someone had seen them; he would have been chained to this one woman for the rest of his life. This.woman.despite how she might have felt in his arms, she was no different than the others. If they had been caught, he would have had to tolerate living with a person who didn't really want him or need him, but only coveted his title and his money until he died. Eriol closed his eyes briefly as the realization of what could have happened hit him hard.  
  
  
  
Damn. Eriol clenched his fist. He, the paragon of self-restraint, had lost control today and did so many other things that he wouldn't have done otherwise, yet he had to use every ounce of control to keep from reaching out for her again. God damn it! Why couldn't he face the fact that this woman was just like the others? Why did he care so much? For all he knew, this could be another scheme thought up by the hare-brained female population of the ton. Yet still, as he looked into her eyes, he only saw desire, innocence, and, strangely, trust in those smoky, slumberous orbs, and for some reason, he desperately wanted to believe that she was different. For some unexplainable reason, he wanted her to be different from the others; he wanted her to love-no, he corrected himself-to care for him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her soft lips again, to caress her face, to feel her hair spilling over his hands.Bloody, bloody hell! What was he thinking!  
  
  
  
Silently turning from Tomoyo, he swiftly moved toward the ballroom doors without a glance back in her direction. This would need a lot of thinking in quiet.  
  
************ Yes! ^__~. Well, this is a nice short one. The length can't compare to chap. 6, but it's still sweet, in my opinion. 0_0.*sigh*. Eriol and his internal conflicts; I just couldn't resist, and it fits too. This is much sooner than I thought I would update, considering the fact that I updated yesterday. Well, what can I say? Hope you enjoyed it. 


	8. You Are Always Here

Chap. 8  
  
Eriol finally awoke from the drugged sleep brought on by the drunken orgy he had indulged in last night in desperation, trying futilely and hoping that perhaps liquor could take his madness out of his head. It was all in vain. She hovered in his vision while he was drinking and when he collapsed into drunken oblivion, she haunted his dreams.  
  
  
  
He didn't know why. What was wrong with him? Why was it that he saw those twin amethyst eyes everywhere? Why did they intrigue him so much? Even now, he could hear her sweet voice, could still taste her lips on his, could still see her tears.God help him, he was going insane. Yes, he was sure that he had lost his mind. Yet even now, he was going mad with wanting her and feeling her in his arms. He could admit it to himself now, because no matter what he did, no matter how much he wanted-no needed-to deny it, he couldn't escape; he couldn't concentrate on anything but her. When he tried to work, his bank drafts would come out all wrong and full of errors; so preoccupied was he with the fullness of her lips and the curves of her throat.  
  
  
  
She was innocence, beauty, light, fire, passion, and.love. God, if someone had told him that he would be infatuated with a purple-eyed woman a week ago, he would have been willing to stake his entire fortune and titles. But now, he knew that it was useless; he was in love with her. Why else would he have been thinking only of her? Of her touch?  
  
  
  
In his mind, he could visualize her laughter and the way she would look when her eyes sparkled with mischief. He remembered her fear, her sorrow, and her desperation reflected in her eyes as she looked up at him yesterday, and he had this unexplainable yearning to shut all unhappiness out of her life. He closed his eyes in defeat, slumping over his sofa in exhaustion. Could there be such a thing as love? Could there be caring? Could this be what he had been secretly wishing for to fill the emptiness of his life?  
  
  
  
He had lost. He surrendered. He now accepted the fact that there was nothing he could do about it. The feeling was here to stay and he had to cope with what he had. His lips curved upwards in a mocking smile. Wasn't life so ironic? Just a few days ago, he had been vowing that he wouldn't chain himself to anyone. Of course, he had expected to marry, but only for an heir. He had planned to go about his life like he was a bachelor and to continue to have an occasional affair or two. But now, he was thinking about voluntarily binding himself to a woman whose name he did not know in his haste to get away.  
  
Fool. He was a hundred different kinds of a fool. But even as he cursed himself for caring for her, he could not bear the thought of her in another man's arms. If he didn't know better, he would say that she was a witch who was using her black magic to weave a spell around him. However, witches did not exist.  
  
Leaning his head against the cushions, he let himself fall into oblivion and into the arms of a woman with lavender eyes and a warm smile. And he did not resist.  
  
  
  
**************************  
  
Hey, people. Thanks for reading the 8th chapter. Okay, here was some more denial and all that, but I think this was nice. Now, no more of Eriol and his thoughts for the moment. Next comes the action! Also, I have found some sweet stories that I have written with the same protagonists used in this story. Therefore, I will proceed to edit and post it up. Look at my profile sometime this week or next; I can't promise. Thanks once again. 


	9. My World Revolves Around You

Chap. 9  
  
  
  
The marble-floored ballroom glittered with exotic colors and jewels as the duke made his way down the elaborate marble staircase. As he did so, the eyes of all single women present gazed at him in adoration while hints of avarice flickered in the depths of their beguiling eyes. Their ring-clad fingers lifted their wine glasses to their blood-red lips, and under the pretense of smelling delicately arranged roses, their attention lingered on the breathtakingly handsome, dark-haired man who was ignoring them completely. Eriol scanned the numerous faces in the crowd, seeking only those lilac eyes and those eyes alone; he brushed aside the hands that sought to catch his attention.  
  
  
  
He looked around with calm composure for the one woman whose features he had seen so many times in his mind and his dreams. She had to be here; he was sure of it. She was somewhere around this room, hiding from him, seeking to go unnoticed, but he would find her. He loved her absolutely, no strings attached. Oh God, he loved her to such an extent that it frightened him. His gaze relentlessly searched the room.and locked with nervous amethyst eyes, holding them captive as he made his way toward her. I found you, my love, he thought. You can't escape me now. I won't let you.  
  
  
  
Tomoyo was unable to tear her eyes from his intense gaze; it pinned her to the floor and refused to let her go. As his form came closer, she could smell his scent, could almost feel his touch, and she yearned for and dreaded another encounter at the same time. She clutched the folds of her gown, her hands slick with sweat, unable to take the suspense. "Lord Clarence, I know that this is an awkward request, but could you possibly ask me to dance at this moment?" she asked a man at her right. "I would.appreciate it very much."  
  
  
  
"Why certainly, Lady Tomoyo, if you wish-"  
  
  
  
"I believe this dance is promised to me, if you please, Clarence," interrupted a smooth voice, and without another comment, Tomoyo found herself swept away in the duke's embrace onto the ballroom floor. Despite her silent protests, his arms tightened around her waist as he drew her closer than what was viewed as proper.  
  
"Stop it," she hissed under her breath. "Please, your grace, you're making a scene." She fought against his bruising hold futilely as he looked down at her in amusement.  
  
"That's exactly what I want to do," he said wickedly. "I want to show them, once and for all, that you're mine and mine only. Now, I've already thought about all of this for days, and since resisting would be in vain, it would go smoother for you if you would just stop squirming."  
  
  
  
"Your grace, we've only just met and-"  
  
  
  
"Don't you think it's a little strange to be calling me that? As much as I can see, we shared more than just a trite greeting in that secluded garden."he trailed off, seeing her cheeks turn rosy as she blushed scarlet. "And right now, there's nothing I want to do more than to kiss you again, and feel your lips under mine."  
  
"Don't say such things!" she pleaded. "It was all a mistake.a foolish mistake, nothing more. Even now, I can't believe that I was so shameless to do such a thing. I-"  
  
"Hush," he commanded quietly in an implacable tone. "It wasn't anything to be shameful of. Do you understand?" he asked, gently trying to teach her to take pride in what happened. "It was a beautiful sharing between us," he stated, "and I don't want to hear you refer to it as a mistake ever again." "You and I both know that we wanted each other then, as we do now," he reminded her, his breath warm against her ear. "Can you deny it?"  
  
"I-"  
  
He silenced her by putting his finger against her lips. "I think I'm falling in love with you, lady, and I don't even know your name yet," he said seriously. "I think I've started loving you since the moment I met you, even if I didn't know-no, didn't want to know. I love you absolutely, and I'll take you on any terms; everything else doesn't matter except you." Eriol watched as tears filled her eyes.  
  
"I can't. I can't love you," she said tremulously. Feelings warred within her. Could she dare to love again? Could she trust anyone? She had gone through so much hurt, hatred, and hardships. Could she risk heartbreak once again by loving him? Could she afford to give him a chance? But even as she contemplated what she would do, she already had the answer; she had already begun loving him ever since that time when he offered her warmth and comfort. He was the only one in her life other than her mother who had done that, and she was convinced as she looked in his eyes that he truly cared.  
  
"Love, I know you love me. I see it in your eyes even now as you look up at me. I felt it when you kissed me. Don't deny what is meant to be," he said, looking down at her with a gentleness she had never known before. "Tell me the truth. Do you love me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
  
***************  
  
Hm. This was okay, I guess? Anway, I've put up other fics of mine on ff.net; check under my profile. Please, I'd really appreciate it if you could read my other fics too. 


	10. Misunderstandings

Chap. 10  
  
  
  
Eriol could never remember a time when he had felt as exhilarated as he felt now in his entire life. Her sweetness and sincerity overwhelmed him, and filled his cup of happiness until it overflowed, creating a river of love deep within his soul. And he knew that she had changed his life; she had given it color, and he could not imagine life without her anymore. Every looked brighter, and life suddenly had a sparkle that he'd never managed to notice before.  
  
  
  
For the first time in his life, the cold-hearted, lonely Duke of Clynester became a warm and loving man who believed that life was worth living, and love worth knowing. All because one woman had touched his heart and wanted him for himself, not for what he had, and because he wanted her for who she was in return.  
  
  
  
"Did you know," he said hoarsely, his gaze fixed on the dark silk of her lustrous hair, "that I had never truly lived before you came? That my life was empty before you came to fill that emptiness inside of me?"  
  
  
  
This time, it was her turn to put her finger against his lips in the gesture of silence. "Yes," she said, her eyes shining with love, "I knew your loneliness and emptiness. I saw them in your eyes, and I wanted to take them away from you; I wanted you to feel happiness again, feel hope, and I have succeeded."  
  
  
  
"You are my greatest achievement," she whispered achingly, "and I am yours. You are my love, and I know that I am yours. That is all we need to know." She smiled up at him. "However, now, we are the main focus of over a thousand eyes, which are curious as to why we are together so long."  
  
Eriol looked up to see the entire population of the ton staring at them with curious eyes. As soon as they parted, however, the ton quickly began to talk the kind of talk that indicated that their thoughts were anywhere but the place they pretended it to be. "Obviously, we are the center of attention, are we not?" he asked Tomoyo, chuckling. "Why don't you go freshen up, while I wait for you on the ballroom balcony?"  
  
She nodded her assent and dropped into a deep, graceful mercy. She then dutifully made her way upstairs to the ladies' room.  
  
***********  
  
  
  
It was fairly dark outside, and with the exception of moonlight streaming in, there was absolutely no light. Eriol waited, leaning over the balcony, waiting for Tomoyo to appear. His hair seemed to be made of the essence of shadows, which hid from what small streaks of light intruded within their sanctuary. A small smile played upon his lips as he visualized his one and only love in a white wedding dress. She would be breathtakingly beautiful, and she would-  
  
  
  
He turned around, hearing the rustling of silk skirts, with a welcoming expression on his face that abruptly altered as soon as he realized that it was not her. "What are you doing here, Lady Katherine? Shouldn't you be inside?" he said, very irritated.  
  
  
  
"It would seem that you were waiting for me, your grace. You had a most loving expression on your face just then," she said huskily. "You love me, I'm sure of it." Her hands trailed over his shoulders seductively, suggestively, as she neared him. "And I'm happy to tell you that it's mutual."  
  
  
  
Eriol grabbed her wrists. "Stop," he said in a forbidding whisper. "You know perfectly well that I care nothing for you. I-"  
  
  
  
Without warning, she leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, and he heard glass shattering behind him. His head whipped around and he saw Tomoyo, her eyes riveted on him and the woman standing next to him. As he watched, her eyes filled with pain, which was quickly masked.  
  
  
  
"I should never have trusted you," she whispered simply, and abruptly headed inside. Eriol cursed under his breath and followed after her, and while he did, Katerine's lips curved upwards into a sinuous smile. 


	11. I Can't See the Truth in Your Eyes

Chap. 11  
  
  
  
She ran. She ran as fast as she could, pain ripping at her heart and giving her the extra fuel she needed. Damn him. How could he have done this to her! She trusted him, and he had lied to her. He had broken her heart all over again in return for loving him and caring for him.  
  
  
  
She thought she might go mad; this couldn't be true, this wasn't true. He said he loved her, didn't he? He promised, didn't he? But she couldn't deny what she had seen, couldn't deny the fact that she saw his lips lock with the lips of another woman. Did she mean so little to him that he could be untrue just a few minutes after he had told her he loved her?  
  
  
  
Inside her head, his horrified expression on his face after she discovered him played repeatedly, juxtaposed with his words: 'Did you know that I had never truly begun to live until you?' 'I love you'. They were lies. All lies! Tears spilled out of her eyes against her will. "Stupid," she told herself. "Weak. That's what you are." She laughed bitterly. "Haven't you learned anything? They're all the same. No one can be trusted, no one is worthy of your love."  
  
  
  
Footsteps-Did she hear footsteps?-could be heard coming after her, and she knew, without looking back, that it was him. He was coming to hurt her again. Oh Lord, she wasn't ready to endure more. Definitely not now. She knew that he would apologize and say that it was all a mistake, that it wasn't his fault, and even though she wanted-needed-to believe him, she wouldn't. Because she had endured the same cliché excuse from everyone in her life, and she was not about to fall for the same trick again.  
  
  
  
Oh God, she wanted to run to him and put her arms around him. She wanted to say that it was all okay, that it was just coincidence. She wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong. But it was, and she couldn't deny that his hands were around that other woman's wrists, and that their bodies were pressed together as they kissed-  
  
  
  
A large hand grabbed her upper arm roughly and tightened. "You are NOT going to go without knowing the truth. Let me explain; it's all a mistake!"  
  
  
  
Tomoyo closed her eyes. It was as she expected: the same words, the same explanations, the same trite apologies. "What is there to listen?" she asked him. "What I just saw was self-explanatory," she continued, logically, "and you have made your preference clear. In that light, I will make mine clear to you."  
  
  
  
She looked up at him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Don't EVER come near me again, do you hear me? Stay out of my life," she hissed. Diamond tears dropped onto the ground as her control slipped. "I just want to be left alone," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Just leave me alone."  
  
  
  
The grip on her arm loosened, and she stiffened as she was engulfed in a strong embrace. "I would do anything for you, love. I could deny you nothing, but I can't take myself out of your life," he said gently, "because life without you isn't life at all. I'd never truly lived before you came into my life-"  
  
  
  
"Don't lie." Those two words seemed to echo throughout the silence that weighed on them both for a moment. "I've heard all of this before," she said, "and I must say, I'm terribly disappointed." A bitter smile formed on Tomoyo's lips. "You see, I expected the great, all-powerful Duke of Clynester to come up with a more original excuse than most of the people I have known in my life," she said, her voice literally dripping with cold disdain. "Now, I see I was mistaken."  
  
  
  
His hand grabbed her chin and his eyes were hard, blue chips of ice. "Do you truly believe that everything I said before was a lie? Do you?" he asked, shaking her. "How could you tell me that you loved when you didn't even trust me?"  
  
  
  
"I didn't trust you?" she repeated mockingly. "Your grace," she said, enjoying his grim expression, "why don't you allow me to clarify things for you. I am the wronged party here. I trusted you. You were discovered with another woman minutes after my foolish declaration of love. Now you tell me, who do you think is the one who lied? Who do you think was the one who trusted in the other? Who is the one who betrayed the other's confidence?"  
  
  
  
"And now," she continued, pointing an accusing finger at his chest, "you dare to tell me that it was my fault?" Tomoyo looked up at him in amusement. "You really are amazing," she said sarcastically. "If I were feeling better, I'd applaud you. You duped another woman into believing that you loved her," she said with tears in her voice. "I congratulate you, your grace. You also got her to confess undying love for you. What more satisfaction do you want?"  
  
  
  
"You have taken my pride, my heart, and my love. What else do you mean to take from me?" she said quietly. She felt so, so numb. Why did his betrayal hurt so much? Why did she still love him despite what he had done?  
  
  
  
"Tomoyo, I can see that you're upset-"  
  
  
  
"How perceptive of you to notice," she retorted. "I wouldn't have noticed it myself."  
  
  
  
He continued on, ignoring her interruption. "And I can see why. But what you saw wasn't the truth. It was a scheme to tear you from me, do you understand? Also," he said straightening, "I've been more than patient with you while you went on and on about betrayals. I did not betray you in any way nor did you. Now stop being ridiculous."  
  
  
  
"I'm being ridiculous? You-"  
  
  
  
His mouth covered hers in a warm, passionate kiss while he held her tightly. Eriol coaxed her lips to part, and when they did, he claimed his victory swiftly. Desire streaked through his body, and the accelerating rhythm of his blood drummed in his ears. He clutched her tighter against him, and he was lost as he felt her softness against his rigid contours. When he reluctantly lifted his lips from hers, he saw confusion swirling in her unique eyes. Finally, she jerked out of his grasp as reality dawned on her. "I suppose you learned how to do that by practicing on your other women," she said coolly and walked away from him into the ballroom.  
  
He cursed as he also made his reentry into the room where mischievous eyes were watching. 


	12. The Look On Your Face

Chap. 12

            Tomoyo crept into her father's house late at night, fatigued, heartbroken, and yearning to go to sleep. She was _not going to cry, and she was determined to stop thinking of __him. __Where does truth leave off and falsehood begin? she asked herself. Even now, her treacherous heart remembered him, his lazy, dazzling smile, and his gentle look of approval, and told her mind that he could not have lied to her. It was simply not part of his nature to deliberately deceive anyone. She could not have been so wrong about him, could she?_

            Reaching her room, she gratefully sank into her soft bed and wished with all her might that _he could be here beside her, loving her and showing her how to love…What was she thinking? Tomoyo abruptly sat, switched on the light in annoyance, and froze in shock. Her father was sitting in her favorite chair, his black, piercing gaze on her frightened expression. He slowly uncoiled and stood in front of her. "I know that we both don't like to talk to each other, so I'll make this concise and to the point. Would you bother to tell me why all your suitors are withdrawing their offers?" he said icily. "And what are these rumors that are going around about you and the Duke of Clynester?"_

            She stood, facing him, absolutely unwilling-unable-to speak. Dear God, she was so afraid of this twisted, wizened man with a black heart who stood before her, daring her to defy him. Numbly, she noted that the first image that came to her terrified mind was the picture of Eriol and his warmth, and perhaps, his love. What if it was really all a mistake? Tomoyo shoved that thought away viciously. She saw what he was doing, and that was enough wasn't it? "Well?" drawled the man in front of her, "Tell your dear father what you've been doing to drive your young men away."

            "Perhaps," she said, trying to sound indifferent, "they lost interest?"

            "I'm quite aware of that," he snapped. "The question is…what did you do to make them do so?" he asked in a silky voice. "Come now, you could trust your father." He moved toward her, murder and rage exuding from him in intense waves. She fought the urge to back away and stood her ground, lips trembling, hands clenched. "Not afraid of me anymore, are you?" he said softly. His midnight eyes were emotionless and cold-so cold, and definitely worse than the scalding fires of hell itself. His fingers lifted, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the coming blow, but they came to rest gently on her cheek and slid sensuously down to her throat. "You are so like your mother," he said with surprising gentleness, "especially your beautiful eyes." For a moment, Tomoyo thought that she could see loneliness and sadness in the cold depths of his unexpressive eyes, but they immediately disappeared to be replaced by a hardness that was familiar to her. He snatched his hand away as if he were burned. "Not her. She's still here," he moaned softly, "She's always here, and she haunts me. She laughs at me with her amethyst eyes, and tells me that I'm hers forever…"

            Tomoyo stood still, unsure of what to make of his sudden ramblings and his unexpected gentleness. For the first time in her life, she hesitantly reached out to her father. He grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip. "You'll never have me, do you hear?" he whispered, and she winced as his vise-like grip tightened. "Answer me!" he said hoarsely.

            "I understand," she managed to gasp. His hand loosened and he stepped back. He looked so confused and lost. He looked up at her and his face changed into a mask. 

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"Well what?"

"What has gotten your suitors running away from you?" he queried. When she did not answer, he pulled her closer, suddenly suspicious. "Are the rumors true? The rumors about you and the duke?" The guilty expression on her face gave her away. "So…it's true. I knew it." His lips curved in a devilish smile. "Follow me," he said simply, and tugged on her arm.

"Where are we going in the middle of the night?" she asked, very frightened.

"To the duke," he said. With that, he dragged her along as she resisted and pushed her into the carriage.

*************

            Eriol turned as an unfamiliar man dragged Tomoyo into his study. "What are you doing?" he asked the man venomously as he gazed into Tomoyo's angry eyes. "Who are you?"

            "I am," said the man, pointing at the woman next to him, "her father." The man's finger transferred itself to him. "You ruined my daughter's reputation," he accused, "the least you can do is to marry her and correct your wrongs."

            "I don't think so. I-" said Tomoyo.

            "This is none of your business," her father said, cutting her off. "This has nothing to do with a woman. It only involves men, face to face."

            Eriol's cerulean eyes displayed contempt. "I wish to talk to the lady," he said coolly. "Privately," he added. He gently took her elbow and led her out the door and into another room. He let her go and stared out the huge windows at the dark twilight sky. Tomoyo stood next to him, looking up at him, and plucked at his sleeve.

            "There's no need for you to marry me, so you can stop looking so grim," she said to him. "I have absolutely no plans to wed you. We would not suit." She watched his lips twitch and turn into a small smile. "I cannot condone lying and mistresses like the rest of the female population, and well, I don't trust you anymore."

            "I disagree," he countered smoothly. "We suit perfectly, and we are going to do exactly what you're resisting, even if I have to carry you down that aisle. And," he said decisively, "I have decided that I cannot leave you with your father any longer."

            "If I don't want to, you cannot force-"

            "You will want to," he interrupted. "You have no choice," he whispered to her lovingly, "but to love me. You already do." His hand grasped hers reassuringly, his fingers twining with hers. "Even if you feel like you can't love me now, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to convince you that we belong," he said gently, "And I will not let you take your love away from me. Ever."

            "You will always be mine," he said. "Always." He pulled her out of the room. "I have decided to take her as my wife," he announced to her father, "and I will pay your debts for you. However, I have several conditions. First, your daughter will remain with me for the remainder of the time before we are married with my mother as a chaperone-"he suppressed her protest with his hand. "Second, you will never EVER see her again to torment her," he said.

            "Agreed." Tomoyo looked at her father, pain stabbing at her heart. Didn't he love her, just a little? How could he just agree to not see her forever so easily?

            "Good," the duke said, "now kindly remove yourself from my house." 

Tomoyo watched as her father strode out the doors, nails digging into her palm. "You bastard," she said hoarsely, "you knew about the debts? Are you marrying me out of pity?!"

He laughed. He crushed her to him and laughed. "No," he said in a suffocated voice, "I'm marrying you for you. The money is just a small part of the equation."

***********

Just warning you…expect the unexpected. That's all I'll say. Sweet chapter tho…lol..


	13. Persuasion

Chap. 13

            She jerked away from him. "Don't touch me," she warned as she backed away, her breathing ravaged. He merely looked at her with amusement twinkling in his clear blue eyes, and laughter reflected in his gaze. He gestured, and when a servant answered the summons, he whispered something into her ear, after which the servant nodded and walked away with a quick, interested glance in Tomoyo's direction. Fuming, she remained quite still, until he stepped toward her and opened his mouth to speak. With a swirl of lavender skirts, she whirled and furiously climbed up the nearest staircase with frustration fueling her very step, his startled chuckle floating after her.

**************

            Tomoyo gradually came to a stop, looking around her in confusion. Where was she? Hesitantly, she opened a door in front her timidly, then stepped in more confidently, dazzled by what she found inside. Bright green tapestries that depicted beautiful mythical creatures hung on the walls, edged with gold, seeming almost alive. Around the room were vases and more vases of assorted blooming flowers that filled the air with a gentle fragrance. Bright-colored buttercups greeted her with their sunny yellow petals, and roses sent their own sweet-smelling hello. Delighted, she stopped to bury her face to inhale their wonderful scent.

            "I see you like flowers," said a gentle, chiming voice, interrupting her from her preoccupation with the violets. Tomoyo looked up to see a sweet, old woman with white hair. Despite her age, she carried herself regally, and her face looked like it could be severe when she wanted it to be. But with a gentle smile on her face, the old woman's face transformed into the kindest face Tomoyo had ever seen in her life. "It's nice to have someone who really likes them," she said brightly, "You see, most of the other ladies pretend to like flowers, but they truly don't. It's just something that's de rigueur amongst the ton, and they want to be fashionable. You, on the other hand seem to like them for what they are.

            "Ah, I seem to have forgotten myself, rambling on like that. My name," she said with a carefree, girlish laugh, "is Lady Elizabeth des Fleurs, and you?"

            Tomoyo smiled. "Tomoyo-"

           The door opened, and both women looked up to see the duke standing in the doorway. "So, mother," he said finally, "she was with you. I've been looking all over the place. Now if you don't mind, I will take her to her room." With that, he took her arm and led her out the door.

            "Mother?" she burst out as soon as they were outside the room, "That is your mother? You cannot say that the sweet woman in there is the famed, sharp-tongued, and cold dowager duchess of Clynester!"

            He smiled. "She's only cold when she wants to be," he said simply. "But inside, she still has the mind of a young woman." He stopped at a door. "This is your room. I bid you good night." As she watched his figure fade as he walked around a corner, she vowed that she would escape, because no matter now nice he may seem now, he had betrayed her, took away her freedom, and literally bought her from her father. In the light of all that, she was sure that he had a black, twisted heart and no conscience at all. How in the world did a gentle woman like the dowager duchess give birth to a cruel son like him?

***********

            The Dowager watched her son as he comfortably settled himself in a wing chair in her room. He had been acting so preoccupied and distant nowadays that she'd been alarmed. But now, she was absolutely delighted and quite happy, for she'd discovered the reason. "So," she began casually, "is she the reason you've been so negligent toward your mother on her visit?"

            "Truthfully speaking," he said nonchalantly, "Yes."

            "What if I were to tell you," she said teasingly, "that I do not approve of her? She is not of exceptional blood, nor does she have considerable wealth, and," she said, drawing herself up proudly, "she is not as beautiful as some of the women amongst the ton. Our blood flows from the blood of kings and emperors. You would dare sully that royal link?"

            "Nothing matters, but the fact that I love her. And," he said in a dangerously quiet voice, "she is more intelligent than all of the female population put together!"

            "Hush," she said, laughing. "I was only joking, you know." She watched his tense face relax, and his grip on the arm of his chair loosen. "You do realize, however, that she won't easily forgive you."

            "Forgive me for what?" he said cautiously.

            "I…ah…heard the final exchange between you and her father an hour ago as I was passing by. Really," she said huffily, "you and your father are all the same. Don't you realize how a woman would feel if she felt she had to marry you because she had no choice? She would feel as if you took away her freedom and bought her like some sort of chattel!" When he quirked his eyebrow in skepticism, she said quite seriously, "My dear boy, your father did the same to me, believe it or not, and _I felt that way."_

            He grimaced. "I hadn't thought of that," he said, getting up. "It was all too sudden, but she probably hates me even more than you suggest."

            "What do you mean precisely?" his mother asked, curious.

            "There was a little accident…"he said, and her face shifted as he told her everything that had happened. "Now," he finished, "she thinks I've betrayed her in some way."

            "I don't think you could possibly let her go…" she trailed off, looking at the expression on his face. " I didn't think so," she said softly. "If you mean to catch her," said the dowager duchess, hearing gentle footsteps moving down the hall. You better go get her now."

            "Yes," he said with an amused look on his face. "I already expected her to try to escape tonight. Of course, I can't let my prey go, can't I?" With that, he quickly slipped out.

            The duchess smiled. "Like all Hiragizawa men," she mused aloud, "he can't be forced to the altar of holy matrimony even if it kills him, but when he finds his woman, he would do anything to make sure that she, willingly or not, comes with him down the aisle."

*********

*sigh* I also tried to add in a little of the next part, but I'm too exhausted. So until next time, ja ne!


	14. Captured Again

Chap. 14

Tomoyo ran through the vast house of the duke, lost. She clenched her teeth in frustration. Did the monster really need to have a house this large to live? What extravagance was this? He could always live in a house half as large perfectly comfortably, but no, he just had to have a larger just to spoil her plan of escape, didn't he? She mentally cursed him as she looked for the right way out and saw three corridors running in different directions. She was thoroughly frustrated. If she could only…

"Do you need help, miss?" asked a young maidservant. "You seem, well, lost."

For a moment, she felt like screaming. Of course she was lost! It was obvious, wasn't it! But as she looked into the girl's eyes, Tomoyo could tell that she only wanted to help, and hurting someone who did nothing wrong was not something she could bring herself to do. Swallowing a sharp remark, she calmly said, "I would like to go outside, please. Could you possibly tell me how?"

The girl's hazel eyes grew huge. "I do know the way out," she said hesitantly, "but the master strictly prohibited all the servants from telling a 'lavender-eyed lady' how to get out, and you have lavender eyes. I really want to help, I do-" she explained with eyes that begged her to understand. "but I'll be punished, beaten-"

"Have you ever been beaten?" 

The servant giggled at the sick look on Tomoyo's face. "No," she said finally, "Never, but my former master did. Oh God, I could never forget all the blood and bruises-"

"Please," Tomoyo said stiffly, fist clenched. Memories of what happened between her and her father whirled around her head. "No more." She looked down at the girl regarding her strangely. "What?" she asked, instantly bracing herself for the coming tirade of "former masters" who had beaten their servants into fearful subjugation and treated them like slaves.

"You're not like the others," the girl said, tilting her head thoughtfully to the side. "Most people would die to live in a colossal palace and have everything they want. I would."

Tomoyo smiled at her candid statement. "Well, unlike the 'others', I'd rather have someone I can love and trust, someone who is _loyal," she emphasized meaningfully, "rather than all the money in the world. If a fortune comes with that person, fine. But it's optional." Her mood changed for the worst, drastically. "I've never found that person. I thought I had, but he wasn't the right one," she faltered, sudden tears blinding her eyes. "I was so sure. How could I have been so wrong? What did I do wrong?" Her knuckles grew white with the tension she was exerting on her fingers. "I only wanted happiness-love. All I got was someone who wanted to possess me."_

The servant tugged at her sleeve. "I'll lead you out, miss," she said bravely.

"No, thank you," Tomoyo answered, "I couldn't ask you to lead me, knowing that you would suffer. Could you, perhaps, just tell me the way so I can find my way alone?"

The girl nodded. "Anything for you, miss." With complex signals, she explained all the paths and turns to take to reach the entrance. "Once you get outside, you have no choice, but to use one of the horses," she said. "The distance from the mansion to the front gate is approximately 25 miles."

"Thank you." Tomoyo turned to go. "Oh, and your name is…"

"Maria Lanon, miss. I shall miss you," she said, "I truly shall. You remind me so much of my mother. Not in looks, of course, but in your warmth."

"Well, Maria. Just remember that you're someone special no matter what other people may tell you, and there's someone out there, waiting just for you."

***************

Eriol bit back an appreciative grin as he watched her ride one of his horses toward the front gate, unaware that she was nearing him. God, she was an excellent horseman-horsewoman, he corrected himself, and with the wind blowing her hair and the rapturous look on her face, she was an untouchable goddess. She slowed the horse to a gentle trot, and stopped a short distance from the gate. And she let out a muffled scream as a black cloaked man jerked her from the saddle, and pinned her to the wall.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. The man ignored her question and his gaze dropped to her lips. She knew in that instant that he was going to try to kiss her. "Don't," she said fearfully, "I'm warning you. I shall scream!" She struggled against his imprisoning hands in vain. "My fiancé will kill you if he finds out that you've been acting this way toward me," she said desperately, fiercely. Getting one of her hands free, she tore the hood of the black cloak back and was…

Stunned. The blue-eyed man smiled his sardonic smile. "I, my dear," he drawled lazily, "am your fiancé." With that, he captured her mouth ruthlessly.


	15. Even If all My Secrets Are Lost In Your ...

Chap. 15

            Surprised and embarrassed beyond belief, she stood still as his bruising lips plundered hers mercilessly. He kissed her as if he had all the time in the world; his hips ground against her sending sensation shooting through her entire body. Against her will, her treacherous body inevitably bent to his, and her arms curled around his neck, pressing herself closer to him. He smiled in triumph, his lips softening and growing more passionate than punishing. He drugged her mind with his endless kisses, and his hands caressed her nape lovingly, but he eventually released her mouth reluctantly.

            As Eriol looked at her face flushed a becoming pink and glorious violet eyes filled with confusion, he knew that, for some reason, she was more provocative than the most wonderfully dressed women he had known in the past.

            "Do you know what I could do to you?" he asked her softly. "I could take you right now on the ground and compromise your situation. Then even if you had managed to escape," he continued, watching her eyes begin to flare into anger, "no respectable man would take you as his wife. You would have absolutely no choice but to marry me, is that not so?"

            "You wouldn't dare-" she choked indignantly.

            "You wouldn't know what I wouldn't dare to have you. But you're right. I wouldn't do that in this case; there's something more important that I want from you that you continue to withhold from me-something that I'll have no chance of receiving if I take you," he interrupted softly, brushing a strand of dark, silken hair away from her face.

            "What," she asked hoarsely, "do you want from me?"

            She watched his lips curve into an amused smile. "Your love."

            "You lost it," she choked, trying to push him away. "You lost it that day," she said, and he knew what she was talking about without her having to tell him.

            "About what happened…there's something you need to know. You need to know the truth that I tried to tell you before," he replied in answer to her statement. "I-"

            "Please…don't," she said with a small, watery smile, "I don't want to hear it."

            His arms tightened around her as he said with determination in his eyes, "You _will hear my explanation. I will not have you blaming me for something I have not done, do you understand?"_

            "Oh let me guess…you didn't kiss another woman," she said with sarcasm, "and what I saw was a hallucination, a figment of my own imagination. How trite." She laughed bitterly. "You lied to me…oh wait, that was a delusion too. I must be put into a mental institution immediately."

            Eriol kept his anger in check. When he was dealing with anyone else, he was impatient, but with her, he had all the patience in the world. He was…happy, strangely enough. He felt elated to know that the thought of him with someone else could cause so much pain because it meant that **_she sincerely loved him. After spending his life surrounding by women who only loved money, he had found the one woman who loved him for who he was, and no matter what he had to do, he wasn't about to let her get away. "Look at me," he said gently, taking her by surprise, "Look into my eyes and tell me what you see." And for the first time in his life, he laid his soul bare for a woman. "That was nothing but a setup, love," he whispered, wiping away the tears running out her cheeks. "What you saw wasn't true. Trust me. Believe me."_**

           Tomoyo obediently looked into his intense eyes and thought she might drown forever in blue. Oh god, it was all there: Concern, Worry, Hope, Truth, Hurt, Happiness, Caring…and some things she hadn't truly expected…Desire, Want, and…Love. They were all there, waiting for her-waiting to embrace her in their warmth, and, for some absurd reason, she felt herself melting in his arms.

            "I truly love you. Can't you love me?" he asked hoarsely, "Just a little? Just one more time?" His words crumbled the remainder of her resistance, and happiness pervaded every pore of her body. The nightmares weren't true…and he was giving up his pride to come to her humbly when she had wrongly betrayed his trust and accused him of betraying_ her: __"I've heard all of this before, and I must say I'm terribly disappointed. I expected the great, all-powerful Duke of Clynester to come up with a more original excuse than most of the people I have known in my life," she'd said coldly when he had tried to explain. __"I am the wronged party here. I trusted you. You were discovered with another woman minutes after my foolish declaration of love. Now you tell me, who do you think is the one who lied? Who betrayed whom?" Regret washed through her like a burning acid. "I'm so sorry," she said, tears pouring out in torrents. "So sorry."_

            "Don't cry love," he whispered in her ear, crushing her against him. "Please don't cry…You're ripping me apart," he said with difficulty, his throat clogged with emotion, and as soon as he said that he could sense that she was trying valiantly to stop…for him. "Shall we go back?" he asked her, and as she nodded against his chest, he tossed her gently on a horse and mounted his own night black stallion.

            Even this far away, Eriol could see mischief glimmering in her gentle, purple eyes, and he thought that she looked exactly the way he imagined her to look when he had been so oblivious to his own emotions. "First person back wins," she said lightly, and took off toward his mansion at the speed of light. With a startled laugh, he nudged his own horse into a gallop. "Cheater!" he called after her as he followed her. 

            Another pair of eyes followed them as they raced, and its owner's lips turned ever so slightly upwards. 

*****************

Another chapter written. Comments are welcome…as always. All those people who have been telling me that Eriol is too rough, here's a nice one. Gosh, he had to be mean, so the transformation was more dynamic and evident. Oh well…until next time, ja ne! Oh, and ruthless means merciless or without pity for those of you who don't use English as your primary language.


	16. If You Only Knew

Chap. 16

            Maria Lanon was a very busy young maidservant who, like her appearance indicated that she had a loving and gentle heart, and not once did she regret that she had helped the violet-eyed lady escape. In fact, she was very proud of it despite the fact that she had received a mild reprimand from the dowager duchess. However, she felt a trifle guilty at the same time; the dowager was being so nice about it unlike many of the other noblewomen she had served prior to her hire at Clynester. So perhaps you could understand the shock she felt when she found the same woman she had helped lying in a canopied bed in a room she was to tidy.

            With wide hazel eyes trained on the unknown woman, she stood there gawking, unable to move. The woman slowly opened her lavender eyes that sparkled and danced in the sunlight to meet her unseemly stare. "Hello, Maria," the woman said to her with a dazzling smile. "I can see that you're puzzled."

            Maria tried to speak, but no words could escape the confines of her throat.

            "I can explain all of this from the beginning-"

            The door burst open quite suddenly and the duke himself came strolling in the doors, immediately making his way toward the smiling woman. "How did you sleep, love?" he asked warmly. "I missed you."

            The maidservant was rendered speechless once more as she looked from the man, who her fellow servants called "the devil" due to his coldness, to the woman who had described him as someone who betrayed her love.

            Tomoyo gazed into his cerulean eyes lovingly. "It's only been a couple of hours since you last saw me. Yesterday night, if I remember correctly," she said laughingly. "But, darling," she told him half amused and half touched, "I missed you too. I've never had someone who looked forward to seeing me, or someone who has made feel loved like you do."

            Eriol's eyes darkened into a pool of midnight blue, touched as he was by her sweet statements. "I'll surround you with people who care," he promised sincerely. "I'll make up for the past that you deserve-"

            "There's no need," said the woman he loved. "I don't need a new past, Eriol, and I don't need you to make it up in any way. All I want is a future…with you. That's enough."

            Eriol felt so…so profoundly happy, so…in love… Without hesitating any longer, he drew her closer and buried his lips in hers. God, it felt so good to have her in his arms…

            "What in HELL is going on!" The maidservant looked at them, thoroughly perplexed and impatient. Eriol and Tomoyo did not hear her; they were so engrossed in each other. "People in love," the maid muttered, "you can never predict what they're going to do next." And with that, she stomped out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

**************

            Eriol entered his study later than usual to work on his business ventures and estates. But work quickly slipped from his mind; his thoughts wandered off to a certain person…

            "Your grace." Eriol looked up to see a servant at the doorway. "There's someone who says that she wants to see you. She refuses to give us her name, but told us instead to tell you that it has to do with your fiancée."

            He sighed. "Show her in," he ordered, quite annoyed. The servant bobbed her head and disappeared, only to reappear with an old, short, wizened woman with numerous wrinkles creating ridges over her face. She grinned toothlessly and her foul odor filled the room with an unbearable stench.

            "Are you sure you've come to the right place?" Eriol asked, his lips thinning into a severe line, his face totally inscrutable. He indicated to the servant that she may go, and she obeyed, gently shutting the door.

            "Of course, I've come to the right place," cackled the woman as she waved away that ludicrous idea with her bony, withered hand. Her face changed abruptly. "I've come to warn you." Strangely enough, her speech did not have a trace of the heavy accent usually evident in the slums where such a woman could be found; on the contrary, she spoke with perfect clarity and elegance…as if she were well acquainted with the speech and customs of the elite class.

            "What do you have to do with my fiancée," he demanded quietly, "and what warning?"

            "Ah…impatient, are we now?" the woman chuckled, rather nastily. "May I have something to, ah, drink first?" Not tearing his eyes away from her, Eriol acquiesced by inclining his head jerkily, and pulling the bell cord that summoned the servants. "Brandy would be heavenly," she said in answer to his questioning look.

            "Madame would like a glass of brandy, if you please," he told the answering servant. The manservant immediately brought a glass of the strong liquor and left them alone in the privacy of his study.

            "My thanks," said she, smiling wickedly. "And now…the warning…You musn't marry Tomoyo," she said, leaning forward to face him over his desk. "You'll cause her suffering and more hurt. I'm telling you now. _That person is coming after you. She'll destroy you both."_

            Eriol stood, towering over her small frame. "What are you talking about? Who is 'she'?"

            "Tomoyo's mother," she hissed softly.

            That convinced him. Eriol was absolutely sure that this woman was insane. Tomoyo's mother was dead, wasn't she? "I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said to her, smiling a humorless smile. "Tomoyo's mother is dead, and she was nothing like the person you described. Now if you'll excuse me, do you mind leaving me alone to work?"

            The woman stood, clutching her black, shapeless hat. "She's alive," she whispered, "She's somewhere out _there. She's waiting to hunt you down, the animal that she is! She's waiting for the right moment when the time is ripe._

            "You'll know when she comes," the hag cackled. "You watch and see. She has her eyes set on you like her eyes have been set on so many others in the past. You're her newest challenge, and even her daughter will not be allowed to get in her way." The woman quietly stepped out of the room.

            In front of him, the glass filled with amber liquid sat, untouched, as uneasiness and foreboding began to prick Eriol's mind…

**************

What did you make of this chapter? I wanted to make it longer, but being the lazy person that I am…well you know the routine. Just wanted to ask: Are the titles too mushy? I think that the titles themselves aren't mushy; rather the story highlights the significance of the titles, thus lending some of its mushiness to it. Wtvr. Hope you enjoyed this chapter; my brain was trying hard (seriously 0_o) to best depict a part of my plot…to be revealed later. Oh, and just taking a poll, do you want a lemon scene? I can't promise anything, but I might put one in if you guys want one.


	17. I Win

Chap. 17

            Sunlight filtered through the windows, dancing teasingly in the fencing room at Clynester. Blooming pink, white, and red roses filled the room with their exquisite fragrance and soothing colors, watching as two equally matched men skillfully circled each other and engaged in an exchange of lightning blows with their fine, gleaming swords, panting heavily. One made a pass at the other with a sequence of savage blows intended to drive back his opponent into a defensive stance, but he refused to be provoked. With a flash of silver, the other man lazily executed a crescent arc drill, sending his opponent's weapon skidding across the smooth floor out of his reach.

            The defeated man pulled off his fencing helmet and grinned dashingly. "I forget how damned fast you are," he said to his companion, laughing. With gilt hair, already made sweaty with work, he was another dashing heartthrob among the ladies of the ton…and one of the few nobles that Eriol had ever respected as an equal and as a friend.

            Eriol smiled back at him. "You didn't do so badly either," he said, amused, taking off his own sweat-soaked helmet. "It was luck, Jon."

            Jonathon, the Earl of Clarence, eyed him with sardonic amusement. "You want to know the one thing I despise above all else, Clynester?" he joked. "I hate people who are overwhelmingly modest."

            "I suppose you favor people who are overwhelmingly arrogant and self-conscious?" he countered sarcastically, his brow lifting. "I noticed-"

            Applause interrupted them, and they both turned too see Tomoyo in a bright, yellow, muslin morning gown, looking as pretty as a blooming buttercup. Eriol smiled with grim amusement as he noticed the stunned look on his friend's face. "Who is this?" he asked Eriol with an awed expression on his face.

            Eriol introduced them with an irritated expression revealed on his face for the first time in his life. On the other hand, his life had been full of "first times" ever since she had come into his life. "Jon," he said, annoyed, "this is my fiancée, Tomoyo, the Countess of Landsfield, and this," he said in turn to Tomoyo, "is one of my equals, Jonathon, the Earl of Clarence." He watched Clarence's gaze shift from her to him with a knowing look and a wicked gleam in his eyes that hinted that he was in his teasing mood.

            "Enchanté, mademoiselle," Jon said gallantly, bending over her soft, white hand, clearly trying to incite jealousy in Eriol. "Still, you would be the death of me; I told Eriol once that if there was ever a time when he would give up his bachelorhood willingly for marriage, the ground would split open and swallow me whole," he teased, flicking his gaze in Eriol's direction. "That was how unlikely marriage was. But of course, you are a charming, beautiful-"

            "Clarence," Eriol said flatly. "Back off!"

            "Off what, Clynester?" Jon countered lightly with deliberate obtuseness. "Could it be that his grace feels the first stirrings of uneasiness?" he said with mock horror. "Ah me!"

            "Jon, stop acting like a fool," he snapped, shooting an apologetic look at Tomoyo who was trying her utmost to contain her hilarity, then looking at his friend in complete exasperation.

            The earl held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll stop," he said finally. "The look on your face has me shaking in my shoes. It implies that there's nothing else you would like to do more at the moment than to throw me out on my elegantly-clothed posterior." Contrary to his words, however, he shot Tomoyo a bold, admiring gaze that twinkled with laughter.

            "You have correctly assessed the situation," the duke told the earl in a warning tone. "It would help tremendously if you could execute the actions that you claimed you will do. Shall I reiterate your words for you? 'Stop'."

           Tomoyo and the earl's eyes locked, both filled with helpless amusement. "By the way, Tomoyo," the duke called her, flagrantly disregarding protocol in front of his fellow peer, "Was there any particular reason you wanted to see me? Something you need?"

            "Oh," she said. "It's nothing, really. I came just for the sake of seeing you, but now that you mention it, there is something that I have grown to want now, yet I am loath to ask…but if you insist-"

            "I insist," the duke said smilingly. "Ask and it will be yours."

            "I wondered if I might try my hand at swordplay with one of you?"

            "Anything but that," the duke coolly interjected. "You would get hurt-"

            Tomoyo's lips curved into a hint of a smile. "Try me."

            Eriol was shocked; Jon merely looked amused. "If you don't accept her 'challenge'," Jon said, doubting the suitability of Tomoyo's request, but unable to resist baiting Eriol, "I'll _completely understand. Really."_

            "I'll take you on," Eriol snapped. "Well?" he asked, turning to look at Tomoyo. "Are you going to fight in that?" he asked, indicating her gown.

            "Be right back!" she told him gaily and ran to her room to change.

            The Earl of Clarence and the Duke of Clynester eyed each other doubtfully. "Do you think this is a good idea?" Eriol finally asked him.

            "I think that the idea is to go gentle on her," Jon said hesitantly. "I didn't think she was serious, though."

*******

            Hell. It was pure hell. Eriol found his concentration slipping, as he looked at her figure so delightfully displayed by tight men's breeches she had on. Jon intercepted his gaze and smiled knowingly, and the Duke of Clynester suffered the humiliation of blushing like an errant schoolboy. "That outfit," the duke bluntly pointed out to his fiancée, "is indecent. I didn't expect you to look like…like…that."

            "Like what?" Tomoyo asked oh-so-innocently.

            The duke restrained himself from blushing again. He was disgusted by his unprecedented behavior and lack of control around her. "Like…that."

            "Eriol, you better learn to clarify what you mean," Jon teased, and was met with a tortured look from the duke. "Just trying to help," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

            Eriol rolled his eyes and transferred his attention to Tomoyo. "Shall we get started?" When Tomoyo nodded, he did not raise his sword; he began to show her the correct, basic grip of the sword.

            "My lord-" Tomoyo said, finally interrupting his overly-protective and long lecture about the proper grip. "Let us begin the duel." With that, she smoothly drew her own precious sword, which had belonged to her grandfather, out of its sheath. The light seemed to sparkle and shift within the blade; it was so highly tempered and of the purest metal without a sign of visible imperfection. _Just like her, Eriol thought. "I already know the basic grips; I'm not a beginner." With that, she swung the sword in a calculated arc designed to disarm him swiftly in one move. He didn't fall for that clever scheme like most average men. Instead, he blocked her easily, using his superior strength and weight to his full advantage._

            Eriol's lips quirked upwards into a sardonic smile. "You do know how to use a sword after all," he commented coolly. Eriol was intrigued; finally, here was someone who was a worthy opponent. 

            "Come on, Eriol," Tomoyo said with challenge gleaming in her violet eyes. "You don't have to be so gentlemanly toward me just because I'm a woman."

            "I underestimated you, but that isn't going to give you the victory," he said, amused. Her response to his comment was merely a small smile and the reversal of her blade, at a lightning speed, in a vertical butterfly, toward his heart. He blocked her jarringly; a second too late, and he would have been vanquished. Tomoyo could see that there was a new respect for her growing in his beautiful, enigmatic blue eyes, and he studied her style warily as he circled, watching for an opening or a flaw.

            She took the offensive, delivering a rain of blows that he easily blocked. She scrutinized him for an unprotected spot-_"Attack and finish your opponent quickly," her teacher had said.-and found it. Shifting swiftly from her current position, she whipped her sword into a semi-arc that attacked his brief, but unprotected, opening. He caught her in a deadlock as the two swords clashed and held. Both refused to back down, but Tomoyo was had a slight disadvantage due to his superior strength, and was almost being forced to her knees before she was able to pull away to think up a new strategy._

            "Tomoyo, I think we should stop now. You're getting tired," Eriol said, lowering his weapon. "It's enough for today."

            "Never let your weapon down," she said. "And," she said, with a sly wink, "we'll go all the way. How do you think I let out all my stress?" Eriol was very impressed, annoyed, irritated, and amused. Who would have thought that _his fiery, dark-haired fiancée was skilled in swordplay? On the other hand, he had never known this side of his delectable wife. He frowned as he realized that there were still so many things that he didn't know about her-things about her family, her childhood…her mother. __"Tomoyo's mother…she'll destroy you both…she's waiting to hunt you down, the animal that she is!"_

_            He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice that Tomoyo's sword had knocked his own out of his hands before he heard the ring of metal on metal. He was thoroughly embarrassed; Jon merely averted his eyes, trying to hide his laughter. "Now, now, Eriol, be a good sport," Jon snickered, only to feel Eriol's glare on him._

            "My lady, you are quite a swordswoman," Eriol said, lifting her hands to his lips. "Though how a lady of the ton knows how to use a sword is beyond me. Do you mind enlightening me as to when you learned it?"

            "I-" she hesitated, looking over at the Jon who was watching them as if they were some kind of fascinating phenomenon. The earl straightened as he watched the pleading fill her eyes. "I guess that means I should go," he said with a secretive wink. With that, he went off to change into his normal clothes.

            "So," Eriol said gently. "Are you going to tell me?"

            "I-," she cut herself off and started again. "Ever since I was young, my father couldn't bear to look at me. I guess I reminded him so much of my mother; I don't really know. I think, despite how he is now, he truly loved her and looking at me caused so much pain. Anyway, it eased his suffering to treat me like a boy; sometimes, I think he wanted me to be a boy," she said brokenly. "So it was natural of him to teach me everything a boy needed to know-things like swordsmanship, and so on. There were times I thought I would go mad-times when I wanted to ask him when he would ever accept me for who I was, but I kept silent for some god forsaken reason.

            "As I grew older, he began to become more distant and more absent from me and my life, but it was endurable, I suppose, with the servants who were my friends. Then…he went mad one day-abusive and cold-and he has been like that ever since."

            Eriol crushed her to him tightly. "It's all over now," he said fiercely. "I'm here with you, and I assure you, I prefer that you're a woman," he said, receiving a watery chuckle from her. The silence surrounded them, but both of them knew what each felt as they held each other in their arms. But there was still one thing he had to know.

            "Tomoyo?"

            "Hm?" she replied, looking up at him.

            "Did you know your mother when you were young?"

            "Oh...Not really. But I know she loved me. I remember a feminine voice crooning to me and telling me that she was my mother and she would always love me. Isn't that the sweetest memory?" she said, her eyes lighting up as if someone lit a torch inside. "My father told me she died a few months ago, though. And one of my mother's former maids told me her story…" she trailed off. "You don't suppose the maid lied, do you?"

            "I'm sure she didn't," Eriol answered, sensing that this meant so much to her.

****************

Please be patient even if it may sound really confusing. It will make perfect sense at the end.


	18. i've uploaded check chapter 17 for updat...

Hello. Another notice to catch your eye, since ff.net wouldn't really show that I've updated my story if I replace the note I posted earlier with the real story. Thanx.


	19. If Only Things Could Remain As They Are

Chap. 18

            He awoke softly and subconsciously tightened his grip on his three-month, sleeping wife's hand. It had become a kind of habit; he supposed that it was because, inside, he was afraid. He was so terribly afraid that he was living in a dream and that the dark-haired woman lying next to him was just another figment of his imagination. But her hand was solid in his grasp, fully convincing him that she was there…with him.

Ever since he had gotten married, his life seemed to be full of laughter and joy…and…_love. And everything he had yearned for in his life had become reality because of her. Only her._

            Even the stiffly sophisticated peers of the ton, who scoffed at the mere idea of feeling any kind of deep affection, forgot to look supremely unruffled and absently commented that the duke and the duchess of Clynester looked very much in love. Indeed, there seemed to be something different about the dark-haired couple. Maybe it was the way the duke smiled lazily and gazed with a kind of approval down at his young wife, or it was, perhaps, the observation, noted by all, that they always seemed to be within a 10 feet radius of each other. So it wasn't really a surprise that the duke showered his duchess with jewels of all colors in all different designs. It did incite severe cases of jealousy among the female population, however, especially in the mothers who felt like they'd missed the perfect chance to get a rich and titled son-in-law.

To Tomoyo, the jewels weren't just elaborate pieces for decoration. Each and every one of them held laughter, joy, and the numerous wonderful memories that she had created with Eriol. And even among these, the fairly large and exquisite ruby pendant surrounded with flawless diamonds, and hung on a thin platinum chain, was her favorite. Eriol had given it to her on their wedding night as a sign of his love and devotion: _"I promise I won't make you regret marrying me, love,"_ he'd said. And he'd kept his promise.

That's why, after Eriol had left to meet one of his peers with a lingering good-bye kiss for her, Tomoyo panicked when she couldn't find that one valuable piece. At first, she merely thought that she'd misplaced it, though it wasn't probable due to the fact that she rarely misplaced anything. However, after a rather thorough search of the entire estate, the ruby was still found to be missing, leaving Tomoyo in agonized tears. Determined to find it and doubting that she could, she had her own room searched one more time while Maria Lanon gazed at her mistress with a heavy and guilty heart. For it was she who had taken the necklace…

*****

Eriol embraced his wife, who was sitting on his lap, tightly as he listened to her discovery that the ruby had been missing ever since he'd left. He stroked her hair gently and soothingly.

"Tomoyo," he said softly. "Look at me." He gazed into her violet eyes as she obeyed. "I love you," he said to her as tears glimmered in her lavender depths, "and just because the pendant is gone doesn't mean my love is too. I'll get you another if you want it."

She smiled up at him. "I know. I'm just a bit upset. How could I have been so careless? I was so sure I put it back in its case."

"Perhaps it was one of the servants?" Eriol asked quietly. "Perhaps one of them took-"

Tomoyo silenced him with a light kiss and shook her head. "I trust them," she told him with a gentle look. "I don't want to blame them for what they probably haven't done unless I have solid evidence."

Eriol smiled reluctantly and nodded.

On the other side of the door, Maria clamped her hand over her mouth as she leaned against the door. _Poor Mistress_, she thought,_ What am I doing to her?_

***

A week later, Eriol was in his study as usual when he received an anonymous note. Annoyed, he was about to toss it out when a tiny scripted writing scrawled at the bottom caught his eye:

It would be in your interest to come to 39 Brook Ave at precisely 8:00. I will await you there. It concerns your wife. If you fail to show, one wonders what might happen.

Eriol glanced at his watch. It was already 7:30; _it was **so** nice of the person to confirm the meeting ahead of time_, he thought sardonically, but if it had to do with his wife…well, he had no choice did he? He would go. Pulling the bell rope, he summoned his butler to ready the carriage for his departure.

***

Eriol arrived at the estate at exactly 7:55 PM and was shown to a dark parlor at 8. There was a woman standing there, her back turned toward him. "You've actually come. But then again, you do care for your wife, don't you?" she said in a husky voice. She turned to face him slowly. Eriol frowned. There was something familiar about her eyes…

Suddenly the memory hit him. "You!" he said coldly.

Katherine smiled. "Yes, Eriol. It's me."

He gazed at her with a murderous look in his eyes. "Tell me," he said impassively, "why I shouldn't harm you right now?"

Ignoring his question, Katherine went on, "Why did you have to marry her, Eriol? She is absolutely nothing. You could have chosen me. I would have made you a perfect wife. What do you see in an inexperienced girl like her?"

"If this was all you needed to talk about," Eriol snapped icily, "there is absolutely no reason for me to stay." He was going to walk out of the room when her furious voice stopped him.

"Did you know your wife was unfaithful?" she told him scathingly. "She's not as innocent as you think she is. She slept with other men!"

He didn't miss a beat. "Like you?" he retorted contemptuously. "Honestly, do you think I would believe what you say about my wife after all you've done before?"

Katherine laughed bitterly and almost triumphantly. "Then if I can't convince you, you might as well take this," she said and flung something at his feet. Eriol looked down and saw something red glittering in the moonlight…_the necklace…_

His hard cerulean gaze moved to her face. "How did you get this?" he asked.

She only laughed. Her laughter echoed throughout the room. "One of your precious wife's lovers came to me to ask me to become his mistress. He offered me the ruby as a token of his love, but I recognized the design; there is only one ruby in all of England that is crafted in such a style. When I questioned him more closely about the jewel, he admitted, quite foolishly, that his former lover had given it to him as a present." She looked at him as if there was an entertaining comedy going on and she was the main actress. "Your wife told you she'd lost it, didn't she? He told me that too. He told me that your wife would tell you that if you questioned her."

Katherine could see uncertainty creeping into his eyes and she went in for the kill. "You have the evidence in front of you. But of course," she said slyly, "if you wish to believe she is innocent, I'll understand."

Eriol said nothing. His eyes changed imperceptibly and he reached down to pick up the necklace, and he left.

***

Eriol's hand formed a fist around the pendant. It couldn't be true. Truly, it just couldn't be. But there was no other way that Katherine could have gotten a hold of the precious blood-red stone. Perhaps the servants…No, the servants loved her like she was their own child. They wouldn't do anything…


	20. The Woman I Love Doesn't Exist

Chap. 19

            Tomoyo sensed that something was wrong when Eriol came home that night. He was absolutely silent and his eyes were veiled for the first time since their marriage, and she did not like it. Not one bit. "Eriol? What's wrong?" she asked him, reaching out to cup his face in her hands. He merely flinched, pulled away, and brushed past her. He didn't come to bed that night. Or the night after that. 

            Tomoyo felt that he was battling with himself about something. And she respected the fact that he needed time, and that was all she had to give him; she'd already given him her heart and her love.

***

            Eriol stood next to his wife's bed, watching her sleep. A glass of brandy in his hand, he stood…watching…just watching. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating her features and streaking her hair with light. God…she looked so beautiful…so angelic…so innocent. He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers lightly down her soft, silky cheek.

            "Are you as innocent as you look?" he asked her sleeping form. "Or is it all just a dream as I feared? Is there a part of you I don't know?" He tipped the rest of the amber liquid down his throat. 

            His heart had felt frozen initially, but now…it felt as if his heart had shattered into a million pieces. He couldn't deal with the gaping emptiness he felt in his heart; he was torn between believing that she would never do such a thing and the new, solid evidence before his eyes. And there was another reason. If Tomoyo wasn't who he'd thought she was…then that meant woman he'd been loving all this time didn't exist.

            He laughed bitterly, and to his surprise a tear slid down his face and landed on her face. He gazed at that hot tear on her cheek and finally wiped it away. "No more lies," he said to her. "No more pain and betrayal. I've just had enough. I'm sorry, Tomoyo. So desperately sorry. I just can't trust you anymore. I want to believe in you, I really do. But glaring proof is there…I can't deny reality, can I?

            "I wish I could ignore everything I saw before. Even if it was a dream," he said, stroking her hair, "it was a damned good dream, wasn't it?" Tears came faster now; this was the only time he'd cried like this. 

            His fingers traced every line of her face…seeking…seeking to memorize every feature like a person who would never see that particular person again. "Goodbye, love. Is the last time I'll ever touch you like this again? Yes…this is the end of me as you knew me…"

            "I can't believe I just loved an image. I can't believe that the woman I love doesn't exist-never did exist. I can't believe that you're not who you seem to be…I can't believe that it was all a dream…"

            For the final time, he kissed her lips lovingly. "I just wish…just wish we could have dreamed forever. I suppose when we die, we'll fly together, won't we love? In another lifetime, perhaps. It seems like we're just not meant to be in this one, doesn't it?" With that, he buried his head in the blankets, next to her body, and breathed in her scent. And he waited for cold, blessed numbness to cover his heart.

******

Yes, this is a quickie. I just couldn't resist. Pretty much self-explanatory. If you're confused, let me know. Oh…about why Maria totally betrayed Tomoyo in the last…*wink*…^_~…it's natural to be curious. Just wait…*evil laughter*…eheheheheh…it will be revealed. If I tell you now, then the whole story won't be as fun, would it? I mean, that part is really really crucial. There's a reason I didn't tell you. Anyway, you know the routine. Read and Review.


	21. Just a little, Just once

Chap. 20

                        The early morning sun rose like a massive yellow penny in the sky and bid the fair moon a hearty goodbye, promising to wake her in time for her nightly vigil. With a brief inclination of her dark head, she swiftly withdrew to her bedchamber as her husband watched her leave mournfully with yearning. The two lovers were only able to meet briefly during the small interval between day and night. The sun shook his proud head and, turning to do his duty, he sent shafts of brilliant sunlight, full of grace, light, and heat, to the mortals below. How beautiful his moon would look, dressed in his golden splendor, he mused, and as he looked down, he found his eyes caught by a young woman who reminded him of his wife in her beauty and grace-well…as much as a mortal could.

            Tomoyo entered the tastefully decorated study, which had formerly been her favorite room in the entire estate-she always used to sit, curled in her favorite chair, reading a book, perhaps, or working on her own documents of the storage inventory. Most of all, she had loved to gaze upon his face while he was working; he liked doing this sort of thing even though he had enough wealth to last him decades. "It's soothing," he had told her once, and while he worked, he would glance up to find her there and shoot her an occasional, dazzling smile that could still effectively make her go weak at the knees and smile back in what she thought was a foolish-and dreamy-manner.

            That was then. This was now, and everything had been drastically altered for the worst. Her fairy tale life, which she thought had been too good to last, had been torn apart as she had pragmatically-and pessimistically-predicted.

            The atmosphere that had been so warm and cheery around the estate had become strained and dismal as the duke and the duchess's mood changed. The mansion also seemed to change back into a dark, melancholy place, cold and empty and forbidding; it seemed to have sensed its master's change of heart to a frightened observer who had known better times. Its halls and corridors that had rung with laughter and joy lay dormant, echoing, in a mocking manner, past memories and hopes, which drifted aimlessly in bloodied tatters. The servants spoke in wary, hushed whispers, afraid to break the lengthy silence that weighed upon them heavily.

            The dowager duchess of Clynester wasn't present to smooth the grey storm that was surrounding Clynester. She was gone; she had left shortly after the wedding, bestowing upon her son and his wife several kisses, tears, and good wishes. And why should she have not? She had seen with her own two eyes that Tomoyo and Eriol had been perfectly happy together.

            The couple had made it a point to ignore each other-Tomoyo because she was adamant in her decision that she only needed to give him time and her unconditional trust, and Eriol because he felt pain and betrayal (not to mention love) when he looked upon her features and felt, oddly in his opinion, guilty about this whole business. When one entered a room, the other left quietly. Both avoided the places that each frequented. When they ate, they did so in separate rooms or at opposite ends of the massive table where they carefully looked away in opposite directions or at their food. They slept in separate bedrooms at opposite ends of the mansion. And they never really had any sort of confrontation-indirectly or directly-of any kind. That is, until yesterday.

            She had been in the library, searching for something else to read; she'd finished reading the last book she had taken to her room before. Stacking up all the books she had been returning to the Clynester private library neatly-she wanted to aid the tiny librarian as much as possible-she had walked over to the fiction section that she always went to. She had also asked a passing maid for tea; she intended to spend the rest of the afternoon quietly reading. 

           What she had planned to be a simple activity of enjoyment didn't turn out to be exactly what she expected. The maid, promptly bringing a tray of tea, cakes, and crumpets, tripped over the small librarian, who had been sorting all the returned books in a gleeful frenzy-and crashed into Tomoyo. What happened was the domino effect. Tomoyo, in turn, went flying and crashed into a startled Eriol who had been planning the same sort of quiet "entertainment" in the library. Automatically, his arms went around her waist protectively as they both fell to the floor in a tangled heap of entwined arms and legs. 

            She had been able to feel every inch of his body on hers, and by the grim, uncompromising line on his face, he had a similar experience. After roughly helping her up, he left in what looked like-if she didn't know better-a rather hasty manner. That night, she heard from one of the servants that he had skipped dinner and indulged in a drunken orgy where he had drunk himself to oblivion.

            Which led to the reason why she was here, entering her husband's study that she hadn't come into since the day he had returned from somewhere, looking absolutely grim. She looked around the room with tears in her eyes as she noted the familiarity of the comfortable chairs and his clean scent that lingered in the air.

            "What are you doing here?" a hoarse voice demanded angrily. She turned to stare into twin blue coals of fire that burned with a strange light. His hair was disheveled and in chaotic disorder. Despite all that, he had managed to look perfectly composed and unbearable handsome in appearance. "Answer my question!" he snapped.

            Her hands locked themselves together tightly to keep the telltale shaking from being seen. "I heard that you drank yesterday and didn't have dinner. I just came to see if you were alright and, perhaps, force you to eat something-"

            "I don't need your damned help. Why don't you just walk out that door and leave me alone?" he interrupted her in a menacing voice. "Don't you know that I absolutely despise your presence? No, that's too weak. I abhor it!"

            Her violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her chin went up an inch. "Well, pardon me, your grace, for being concerned with seeing if you were alright. Apparently, it is an unforgivable mistake!"

            "You're damned right it is! Now get out!" His eyes flashed dangerously, alerting her to the fact that he was willing to use force to get what he wanted.

            Her temper flared. She had more than patiently waited for him to have some time alone. She had trusted him to make the correct decision whatever the problem was, and she had respected the fact that it was probably his own business and was careful not to pry. Instead of being grateful, the man was throwing it all in her face and making it sound like it was all her fault! "What in hell in wrong with you? It's not like it's my fault; I didn't do anything! There's no need to take it out on me!"

            "Oh, isn't there?" he said with a sardonic smile. "I know about your secrets, my dear wife, and the **_guests_** you entertain most intimately."

            She was puzzled. What guests? The only people who had come by were some female acquaintances she had come to know in the ton. Why he should make such a fuss over that was beyond her. "I don't see why that should upset you."

            "Don't you?" His eyebrow quirked upwards in a mocking and condescending manner.

            "No, I don't. Perhaps you would like to clarify it for me. I've only had a couple of friends come to visit and all of them were females. There's not even a guy for you to be jealous about!"

            His lips captured hers in a brutal, bruising kiss. When he finished, he whispered lovingly into her ear, "Such a liar-a liar to the last. These lips,"-he touched her lips with gentle fingers-"were corrupted by others. This face,"-he trailed a hand sensuously down her visage-"has been deceitful and sullied by forbidden hands." He turned away, moving to his desk, and waved a careless hand in his dismissal of her. 

            "Go. Stay out of here. I don't want to see your face, do you understand?"

            She didn't budge. "No, actually I don't. Eriol, love, I don't know what you've heard about me. Before today, I didn't even know it was about me, and I don't know what you're talking about." She walked toward him with arms open in appeal, and she stood in front of him until he was forced to look at her. "But I'm sorry for whatever it is I did or didn't do…because I can see that it's hurting you so much." She reached out with one hand and cupped his face. He flinched, but didn't draw away. "Can't you love me? Just a little? Just one more time?" she asked in reminiscence of his words to her when he was trying to convince her that the scene she had seen with Katherine wasn't true.

            "Get out of here," he said hoarsely, and he pushed her out the door and slammed it shut. Burying his head in his hands, he leaned against the door and let a tear spill down his face; the duke cried like a child for the second time in his life.

~~~~~~~~~

So sorry. Was very lazy before. Will update when I have time.


	22. Why Things Must Be

Chap. 21

            Eriol was at Whitmore, a gambling house for exclusive members (not even some of the members of the royal members were allowed membership), all of them nobility who gambled for higher stakes in a more discreet setting. The gain or loss of several hundred thousand pounds was a daily occurrence. The loser was expected to concede graciously and the winner to refrain from extensive gloating; this was, after all, for sport, not for the mere sake of money.

            He looked up as Jon entered the airy, open gaming room and allowed a glimmer of a hesitant smile to show on his face. Jon grinned in return. "How are you doing today, **_your grace_?" he asked Eriol with a special emphasis on the last two words teasingly. "And how is your little duchess?"**

            Cerulean eyes turned into chips of ice. "I'm fine today, my lord, and I'm sure that she's doing fine, not that I care."

            "What happened between you two?" Jon asked quietly. It wasn't really a question, but a demand. Over the few months, he had begun to regard Tomoyo as his friend, though, perhaps, that bond wasn't as close as that which he had for Eriol. 

            But Eriol wasn't the same man he had been before. He wasn't the powerful man, who was prone to flippantly ignoring the rules of high society, who Jon had regarded as a friend all his life. Hell, he wasn't even the warm, loving man who had loved his wife with unnatural adoration and devotion than was acceptable among the ton.  He was…someone else, different in some indiscernible way. His face was, once again, inscrutable and harsh, yet Jon knew what he was hiding; the lines on his face spoke of inner torture that he found unendurable, but had no choice but to endure or be destroyed. The grim line of his mouth betrayed the fact that the duke was clinging tenaciously to his feeling of self-preservation, and he was going to win regardless of the price. Even if the price was to give up the woman he still loved with all his heart. Even if his soul cried out for her gentle touch and mourned the loss of its other half. Even if he had to kill himself to do so.

            "Nothing," Eriol snapped in irritation.

            From the beginning, the duke had seemed infallible to many, but Jon had known better. He was human-a damned, stubborn human at that, but human nevertheless. Despite his façade, he had the capacity to love and to hate; the dangerous thing was that he hated as fiercely as he loved. 

            Eriol was a human being who had always trusted his pragmatic mind more than his heart. Perhaps that explained why he had been so skeptical about unexplainable emotions…like love. But now, what he felt was too much to ignore and his usual inclination toward the "reasonable" part of his mind was tearing him apart.

            "I know something is wrong," he said patiently. 

            "I'm astonished. I admire your keen sense of perception," was the caustic answer.

            Jon doggedly questioned Eriol with great persistence. "You had a wonderful marriage, Eriol. Most of the time when I saw you, after your marriage that is, you were too sickeningly happy for my taste. Oh, never mind the times I wanted to punch your face in for being so cheerful in the morning; I prefer you like that to you being in such a black mood."

            "Too bad. You'll have to deal with it, **_my lord_."**

            The earl of Clarence stood up stiffly. "If bitching at me was all you wanted me for, Clynester, I see no further reason to stay." He turned to leave, then stopped. "I don't know what's going on, but you're not the Eriol I love like a brother. What more do you want from life? You have a wonderful marriage--"

            "I have a marriage of INconvenience!" the duke said tersely, lurching to his feet. "You don't know the pain I'm going through right now, Clarence!"

            "Then tell me."

            Eriol's mouth snapped shut; silence overwhelmed the room, and the men at the other private gaming tables eyed their belligerent stance curiously.

            "Is it true then?" Clarence asked softly under his breath. "Are the rumors about Tomoyo having affairs…?"

            The duke sat down and buried his head in his hands, and Jon knew. He slowly sat beside his friend. "Oh God…"

            "I was such a fool; I thought she was innocent and harmless. Now, the lily I plucked from the gutter has turned into a snake in my hands," the duke said stonily.

            "Then you'd best destroy it before it bites; you'll never survive its poison."

            He smiled softly. "I know. Don't worry. I've already begun to do so. First, I'll remove her from my sight, and then I'll get rid of all these memories."

*******

            She could hear the whispers as she descended the grand staircase without Eriol at her side. Vicious gazes, veiled as friendly, inquiring looks were swept her way, and red lips were lifted upwards in a malicious curl. Tomoyo tactfully ignored all of them and made her way through the colorful crowd, until she reached her tall friend.

            "Jon, it's good to see you." She smiled brightly at him. "I have to talk to you about…Eriol. We…We've been having some problems."

            The man who had teased her and flirted with her was silent. His icy gaze raked across her features in contempt. "I have no inclination to speak to you, your grace," he said too formally considering their close acquaintance. He gestured carelessly toward his lady companion at his side. "As you can see, I'm quite indisposed. **_No offense_ to your grace, of course."**

            "Of course." She looked away, miserable, wondering what she did to offend the earl who had been amiable a few days back.

            The lady with him smiled spitefully. "I heard those rumors about you, your grace. It's most unfortunate. I just wanted to tell you, however, that I **_really_ don't believe a word of it. It's quite scandalous. They say that the duke doesn't love you any longer." **

            To Tomoyo's surprise, the earl did not come to her defense, but merely looked away. She finally bowed her head. "That's a lie."

            "Of course it is." The mollifying agreement was delivered with a thinly veiled skepticism.

            "Truly, I speak truth."

            The other eavesdropping women tittered in the background under the smiling pretense of nonchalance. Even so, she could feel the way they were demolishing her reputation behind her back, the way they ridiculed her; she didn't care. She refused to let go of the one truth that was keeping her alive beneath the weight of her current hardship—the hope and knowledge that Eriol still loved her. If not, why would he be so jealous of what was obviously a misunderstanding?

            She felt firm hands steering her toward the balcony where the ton could see them, but could not hear them. She looked up, startled, at the earl who was dragging her along, a muscle in his jaw ticking furiously. 

            When they arrived at their destination, he said angrily, "Why are you making a fool of yourself? Despite what you've done you're still his bloody wife who bears his name. You're destroying what little pride he has left!"

            Tomoyo looked up at him in confusion and a touch of annoyance. "What in hell are you talking about?"

            "Don't pretend not to know! Eriol has told me all about it!"

            "About what?"

            Jon's white-knuckled hand gripped the railing tightly. He was absolutely disgusted and incensed by her charade and pretense. "I still thought you had the dignity of giving in graciously when your dirty deeds were uncovered. Apparently, I was wrong.

            "Do you expect him to love you when you've had affairs with other men? Do you expect to believe you when he has indisputable proof? Did you think he would take you back when you scarred him, demolished his pride, and humiliated him?" he snarled at her, more angry at himself for having believed her false little heart and his inability to protect his friend. "I tell you, while Eriol might not give a damn about what his peers think of him, he gave a damn about you and how you thought of him. He made you his everything and you heartlessly threw it all away."

            He watched as a flicker of realization dawned across her face. That's why…Tomoyo now understood it all: the "guests" he claimed that she had been entertaining, his bitterness as he touched her face, his wish to remain away from her. A tear slid down her pale face. "Did he really tell you that, Jon?" she asked, brokenly. "Didn't he trust me?"

            The earl felt his iron will waver and fall into uncertainty. His eyes met hers and he saw what Eriol had been too blinded by rage and retaliation to see. He saw what Eriol had refused to see because he was so deep in his jealousy and his automatic assumption that she was the worst kind of wife a man could wish her. He saw love, pain, understanding, and sorrow in her violet eyes and felt as if his heart might shatter in her grief. He clenched his jaw. "It's not true, is it?" he finally asked her gently.

            "No. I swear to you on my life." She bowed her head to hide her tears. "I don't know how this misunderstanding came to be, but it isn't reality. I was always faithful to my husband. **_I love him_**."

            A shudder ran through him. "You do believe me, don't you Jon?" she cried. "Tell me that you, at least, have faith in me. Tell me, damn it!"

            "I believe you," he said, and at those three words, he saw that she looked relieved.

            "Good," she said, smiling slightly. "Now, all I have to do is-"

            "He won't believe you." Jon couldn't meet her questioning eyes. "He's blinded by his own assumptions, rage, and jealousy. To him, you are a scheming liar. His proof condemns you in his eyes and you couldn't convince him otherwise.

            "Go far away from here, Tomoyo. Go, if you want to keep from hurting him further and destroying yourself. If you stay, both of you will tear each other apart."

            "I can't."

            "He won't permit himself to love you anymore; he's killing it himself. I saw him, Tomoyo. He was so far gone that even I couldn't have stopped it had I not been convinced by him; Eriol has never been the type to jump to conclusions…except maybe in your case when his emotions overwhelm his reason," Jon informed her softly.

            "Is this it, Jon? Is it too selfish to ask for love?" she asked him.

            "For his sake, save him, Tomoyo. If you remain, he'll continue blaming you and exterminate his heart. You'll resent him for what you think is a serious lack of trust. You won't be able to understand."

            "He still loves me," she said desperately. "He needs me. I can't believe that he could be so unfeeling, so cold.

            "I won't make the same mistake I've made before; I won't judge him before I know the complete truth from his own lips." She whirled and left her friend standing alone, staring out at the stars.

*****************

That's it, folks. Getting more depressing, eh? Review as always. One last thing, do you prefer this to be a sorrowful ending or a happy one?


	23. The Past and the Present

Chap. 22

Note: There are many transitions between the present and the distant past. Make sure you pay careful attention to these transitions; please don't skip some parts because they seem long. It was hard work and it is important in the later chapters, though you may be puzzled. Getting more and more complicated here. It starts with the past.

            Ah, an old, gnarled man-creature says, you're back. I suppose you've come for another piece of knowledge, yes? No, really? You haven't? Well then? Are you going to tell me what you've come for?

            Ah, I see. You want to know about the dark story of the Hiragizawa line. But first—the creature stretches out a smooth, webbed hand—do you have what I asked for in our little bargain for this tale?

           A lean, wizened hand hastily puts his secret pay away in his cloak's inner pocket. My thanks for your efforts, he says. Now I shall reward you as you rightfully deserve. I'm a bit too suspicious you say? Well, you have to consider the fact that human beings are deceitful creatures. What's that? I might be deceitful too? Nonsense. I'm bound by oath to tell the truth and only the truth; do you not trust me? You don't? I'm hurt. 

            Bored, are you? I must start my tale, no?

            In a land of where, in the times of when, Hiragizawa (not Eriol, you know which one), a great prince—and sorcerer—lived in a castle of icy, black crystal in the sky. Eli Moon, the common folk fearfully called him in their foreign tongue as a title of fear…and of a curse. It was a title that would pass down to his descendents and to his descendents' descendents in generations upon generations to pass. 

            A curse of a people became the emblem of highest honor among their dark, shadowy line. A funny name that…to be named after the luminous celestial body in the shadows of the night sky. Moon…so beautiful, but deadly; hidebound in its constant movement, but waxing and waning in an endless cycle of fickleness; trusting for the moment, but doubting the next; fiercely loving in one instant, but insanely jealous and seeking revenge as soon as the seedlings of distrust start to unfurl their leaves; such was the moon's nature and the unfortunate birth of a heart-rending tragedy, continuing forever, locked in a permanent cycle of spilled blood, love, and utter devastation.

            Now that you know…let's return to the first of all the Hiragizawas. From his seamless, cold refuge one dismal, winter evening, he looked down on his people with brooding eyes. It was but a moment in time, perhaps fate, before his sapphire orbs were caught by a young woman, with intriguing violet eyes and waist-length black hair, dancing lightly to the soft strains of a blond man's golden lyre. His heart jumped in fascination and a kind of excitement as he watched her, successfully managing to throw off its worn, rusty chains. This surprised him greatly; he had rid himself emotions long since, for he had viewed it as a terrible flaw and an unforgivable weakness.

            He shut himself within his gates of ice for several days in his desolate abode, trying to rid his head of her intoxicating smile and her musical laughter in futility. In his rage and unforgiving wrath, many of his subjects perished within the blistering breaths and gruesome maws of his night dragons—it was for his amusement, he said with a cruel little smile. But all that did was to bring her more painfully into focus: her disappointed eyes gazing at him mournfully, pleading to him, arms spread out in appeal; she refused to leave, it seemed.

             He spent long nights poring over spell books to rid himself of this plague, this pestilence that thwarted all his evil plans with just one teasing glance. He thought of destroying the girl, wiping her off the face of the earth, but his treacherous heart betrayed him and forbade him to do so. This thing called "love", he reflected to himself, was a terrible thing; it stripped its host of all apathy—the only defense—and made one feel severe pain. Not physical pain. That he could endure without complaint, with nonchalance. It was mental pain that he could not endure; it was this he could not comprehend because of his apparent inexperience. Lust, he had experience with, but not the purity of love, and he wished he had never encountered it.

            Without any kind of magical solution, he finally decided that the only way to cure himself was to indulge in love. If he was hungry, he ate, and hunger abated. If he was lustful, he satisfied himself with his whores to such an extent that he rid himself of such trivial, primitive instincts. It was all for power and wealth; anything that did not further that need, that desire, was worthless. Surely love, once he fed it to overfilling, could be satisfied and, after that, he could return to his original state of indifference and nonchalance.

            Satisfied with his reasoning, he enquired after the young lady and made her his wife, and the queen of his territories, determined to end his problems once and for all time. Unbeknownst to him, however, he had made a massive miscalculation, for love cannot be sated; it is an ever-enduring thing, a need and a desire that grows greater as it is constantly fed that demands eternity and the complete possession of its subject.

***

          The blasted door was locked. Of course, it always was. Why did she even bother to TRY to turn the bloody handle? A trifle exasperated, she let her hand trace the carvings on the massive, forbidding double doors; these doors that had once guarded her memories now locked them away from her reach. She knocked softly on the door. "Eriol…I know you're there. Please open the door; we need to talk now."

            No one answered and she wasn't surprised. She hadn't really expected him to, but she was determined to make him open this godforsaken door even if she had to kill herself to do it. "Eriol…please…"she pleaded in a soft voice. "Please." Still, no one answered, but she could feel his presence near the door; he was probably listening to her with grim amusement, devoid of any intention to acquiesce to her request. 

            Seeds of rage took root and unfurled their venomous leaves within the weary ground of Tomoyo's heart. She could understand, perhaps, his anger, but to deny her a chance to explain the misunderstanding was downright unforgivable. "Your Grace!" she said loudly, her tone belying the usually solemn nature of the title. "We need to talk, you hear me?! Now!"

            There was no response; the silence seemed to weigh heavily upon her. Rather than subdue her, this infuriated her further. "Fine! If you don't want to talk, why should I?! I hope it grows stuffy in there and you eventually die of suffocation! You can roast for all you want! See if I care!" 

            For an indistinguishable moment, she thought she heard muffled laughter coming from inside, but when she could hear nothing more, she credited it to her vivid imagination. Irritated, she was making her way to her room when a manservant stopped her. "Yer Grace," he said, "You mustn't worry 'bout 'is grace 'roastin' in 'is room"—apparently the servant misunderstood the situation—"'is grace's windows are open. I saw zthem from ze gardens on my way in…"

            It took a brief moment for Tomoyo to process this unlooked for information, then, suddenly, her purple eyes sparkled with mischief. "Charles, ask one of the maidservants—Emma probably has one—for a 5-inch hook. Oh, and I require several feet of sheets, tied together…you know what I mean?"

            A slow grin made its way across Charles's face. "Aye commander," he said smartly, and walked away with a sharp salute.

            Tomoyo's eyes gleamed. She and Eriol were going to have their little talk.

***

            The sinister sorcerer found, to his amazement, that he craved her more each time; and there was a foreign kind of warmth that seemed to permeate his being whenever he was within  her vicinity or when he was thinking of her. She had brought joy, laughter, and candor into his forbidding dwelling, and he knew not what to do with it; he was not experienced in such openness and love, and he had a feeling that he was becoming more vulnerable than being strengthened by his desperate plan. He had begun to change, under her gentle, passionate assurances of her love, into a better man; his former plans of evil triumph began to fade into insignificance. All that mattered was her and the fact that she was with him and loved him with all her heart…

            This perfect sort of love could not last forever; most seldom do, for love attracts jealousy and trouble in its wake. A sorceress from a distant land, hearing of the sorcerer, summoned his image in her scrying pool and immediately fell in love with him. The fact that he was married did not hinder her at all, for she believed that an evil wizard like Hiragizawa would not—could not—truly love a normal, powerless woman. This sorceress took it within herself to become his lover, his partner to power, and to, eventually, get rid of the nameless woman who had stolen him from her by means of a temporary physical need.

            She sent him a message to arrange a meeting in the gloomy, tangled forest near his home to be made after a fortnight from the date from which she sent it. No reply came back, and she assumed the answer to be positive, for even a great enchanter like him could not ignore a message from so great an enchantress.

            He was already there by the time she arrived. "What do you want?" he asked her brusquely, clearly irritated about something. His cerulean eyes flashed in annoyance. "Be quick about it."

            "What makes you think I want something?" she retorted softly with a coy lowering of her long eyelashes. She pursed her red lips. "I only came to ask you a question and make you an offer of mutual benefit."

            "Whatever it is, I'm not interested. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my wife." Ah. That explained his irked expression.

            "Are you satisfied with your wife? I could offer you what she gives you and more," she softly cajoled him. "Isn't that what you want? Absolute Power? I could give it to you. With both our Gifts, it is nothing."

            He was silent for a long moment, and then he spoke. "Your offer is a tempting one, and I'll admit that if you had given me this choice several months ago, I would have accepted your proposition without hesitation. But now, I have discovered greater things—things more meaningful and unable to be gotten by power alone; I would have thrown it all to the wind for something so unworthy by comparison."

            "And what is that which is greater?" she asked, amused and curious.

            "Love."

            "Love? What has become of the great sorcerer I sought?" she reiterated mockingly. "What is love? I doubt you even know what it is."

            To her surprise, he smiled. "That is its beauty. It cannot be explained; it can only be felt." He said to her, a kind of pity entering his eyes. "I suppose you have never felt it.

            "Would you like to hear of the world that I wanted to create with my power before I found this new knowledge? I wanted to create a dystopia, a nightmare world," he continued on in an almost dreamy manner, "A dark world where all men would bow to me in submission. A world where they are tortured and destroyed, but they will love me for it. Because it is all for _their own good._

            "Power is power over human beings. Over the body—but, above all, over the mind. Power over matter—external reality, as you would call it—is not important; we control matter because we control the mind. Reality is inside the skull. We make the laws of nature. I could make the world disappear with a snap of my fingers; what care I for what _is_, when I could control what _seems_? What _is truth when it is not realized as truth?_

            "But I realized…that to do so would be to exterminate the need to feel, the need to love; it did not bother me at the time, for I saw emotions as a weakness and a curse—to destroy that need would be to purify the essence of what is the community. Humans are swayed by their emotions, their feelings; without them, they cannot be as easily corrupted. They will be stronger than ever before, but pitiful in their lack of knowledge. But I discovered that these emotions are not a part of the human race, they _are_ the human race. Without them, human beings are no different from beasts—no, lower than beasts, for beasts could still feel the rudiments of emotion, such as primal instincts. To obliterate these would be to destroy humanity—as one or as a community, it matters not—and to be glorified by a bunch of robots who do whatever they are told. Where is the glory? How can I have power over humans when they _are_ no longer humans? It is a fruitless quest.

            "But to love and to know that you are cherished...To feel that warmth inside—that is a fulfillment, no power could ever bring. Perhaps you would say that I could make one feel toward me by controlling them. But that is not true emotion, not true love, not true feelings; it is but a shadow of what _was and what _could_ be. To love is to sacrifice oneself—one's desires—for humanity because without humanity, there is nothing…not even the person who loves you."_

            The sorceress said nothing for a long moment as if she, too, were thinking about giving up what she had secretly yearned for. "Your plan was extraordinary, but you lie. Your reasons for 'giving up' may be logical, but they are not the reason why you did," she finally said, "You love her, don't you? You would give up all for her, and she would do the same for you."

            "She is my life," he said softly. "She showed me the truth and the beauty of that truth. I love her."

            "But I love you more than she could ever love you"—she looked up into his eyes—"and what have I received in return?

            "I offered you the world, and what have I earned? Heartbreak? Loss? Is this what I am worthy of? Is this my reward?"

            "I must get back to my wife."

            "I offered you much," she hissed at him.

            "She has given me something of greater value" was his reply.

            "You would walk away from your dreams? From me?"

            "Yes. For her."

            The sorceress's eyes turned hard as flints of ice, and she spoke, half-turned away from him. "Then you are fool, the greatest of all fools, and you will pay for your mistake. I curse you: Death will visit your wife from your own hands, dogs will gnaw at her bones, and you will live, until your death, in your hatred of her, while love chokes your heart in its strangling knots. And you will never know the truth; your love will destroy her. I will bring misfortune on you like a plague, like a disease upon you and your descendants and their descendants. Their blood is upon  your head."

            She turned to assess his reaction, and stopped in fury. He was already gone.

            "O, beware, my lord, of Jealousy; it is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds upon," she whispered to the empty air, not as a gentle precaution, but of a premonition. "Your doubt will consume you."

            She smiled. Despite his newly-found affections, she knew that he was yet a stranger to love. He was insecure in such an intense emotion; he could not completely believe the fact, in his heart, that a woman such as his wife could love a cold, jaded man such as him. And she planned to exploit his weakness.

***

            Eriol was partially amused and partially shocked when a hook attached itself to the rim of his window. But he was angry when he discovered that his adventurous wife had taken it upon herself to climb the rope of sheets. Damn the bloody woman! Didn't she know that she could fall and get seriously injured? Considering how well he knew his wife, he doubted that any kind of persuasion could convince her to get down.

            Below, Tomoyo was enjoying her brilliant plan. Climbing was a piece of cake, she thought, when one had had plenty of practice during one's childhood years. In fact, a few more feet and she would get to the window and—

            She cried out as a knot worked free—surely, she was going to break her neck—and a masculine hand roughly caught her by the man's shirt she was prone to wearing at home and dragged her through the opening of the window.

            "Congratulations, my lady, on your glorious feat," her husband said acidly, while looking down at her disapprovingly. "You have almost managed to break your spine."

            She grinned up at him comfortably. "I thought 'neck', but spine is close enough, I guess." His face was impassive as cold marble, and he did not smile back. "We have to talk," she said finally.

            "So you've said. What is there to talk about between us?" he said quite forbiddingly. "But since you've insisted upon talking…Talk."

            "I found out from Jon…I know what you might have thought all that time—"

            "Oh, did you? I'm sure it was _such_ a surprise for you. It's very difficult, to be sure, to keep track of what one did," he interrupted her grimly. "Next thing I know, you'll tell me that all this is a lie and that proof just _appeared_ from you-know-not-where."

            "It's true!" she protested vehemently. "It's the damned truth I'm telling you. Why can't you believe—"

             "Oh, is it? Is it really true? I must have been hallucinating," he said sardonically. "Perhaps I should have my head checked."

            "Perhaps you should!" she retorted viciously. She sighed, exasperated, and desperately struggled to regain her composure. "You love me," she said. It wasn't a question, but a statement of what she believed was the truth.

            "I loved an image. Not you. Never you" was the cruel reply.

            Disregarding how that answer tore at her heart, she valiantly continued. "Then tell me why you didn't hit me even when you believed me to be a harlot; you certainly would have wanted to, and it is not uncommon for noblemen to hit their wives."

            He smiled, and she wanted to slap him for being so composed in such a serious discussion. "Hit you? And prove to you that I'm the bastard you painted me to be? I'm probably regarded as a cuckold, a person who can't even control his wife's behavior. I prefer to save what's left of my pride, thank you. And I believed you to be a harlot? You _are_ one," he nonchalantly insulted her, "Now, now. I wouldn't want to dirty my hands further by touching you, would I?"

            Tears filled her eyes. "You saved me, just now," she began falteringly. His indifference was ten times as horrible as his hatred and she did not know what to do. He was tossing her aside like some dirty sheet and there was nothing she could do, or was there?

            He shrugged in a non-committal manner. "You could have been carrying my child, for all I know. Considering what I've learned of you in the past couple of weeks, you probably didn't tell me as is a wife's duty. God knows, I've bedded you enough."

            He watched, satisfied, as she clenched her fists. "Is that," she asked him a tight voice, a tear sliding down her face, "all I meant to you?"

            "More or less," he good-naturedly averred. "You really didn't expect me to tell you otherwise? We promised to be _absolutely honest_ with each other, did we not?"

            Frustrated, Tomoyo dug her fingernails in the soft flesh of her palm. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand this mockery. "Did you not trust me? How could you so easily believe that I did those things you say I did?"

            Something in his deep blue eyes flickered and she saw uncertainty etched in his face before his mask covered his emotions once again. Without hesitation, she leaned forward and kissed him, clasping his neck with her arms; and his body grew rigid. He pulled away, his breathing hoarse.

            "Tell me with your own lips that you don't love me. Tell me that you didn't trust me. Tell me that I was nothing to you. Say it with your own lips, and I'll believe you. I don't want to make the same mistake that I made when I saw you with Katherine. Tell me what you feel."

            He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. His heart was tearing in half…He just couldn't do it…He couldn't… "I don't love you," he said, in a painfully clear voice, "I loved another woman who happens to look like you. She's dead. I'll love no one else, especially a whore like you in her place. I never trusted you because I never knew you. The scheming actress that you are can't be someone I could have possibly loved."

            Crystal tears cascaded down her face. She was absolutely silent and looked lost.

            He gritted his teeth; he couldn't give into her. He would rather kill himself than allow himself to be a slave to her deceit." You killed her. You murdered the wife I cared for in front of my eyes. You deceived me with your lies and dashed my dreams to pieces. For that, I will never forgive you.

            "Never." 

***

            Hiragizawa thought that his wife was acting very strangely lately. She had been so secretive of late and, though perhaps she thought she was doing a good job of it, he saw right through her. She was a terrible liar; and when she lied, her hands would move in a frenzy of excessive moment, giving her away. She was definitely hiding something, and it troubled him greatly; she had never kept anything from him before. When he had asked her about it, she had shaken her head and had said, "It's nothing. You worry too much."

            He didn't want to pry. His heart told his brain that she wasn't a promiscuous woman and that all he'd seen of her was good and pure; it told him that she had a right to a bit of her own privacy. His brain, however, told him that people changed and that some were not all they seemed to be. There's no harm in being sure, it said to the heart, just in case. Unable to put up with all the suspense, he finally created a listening spell to follow his wife around…Only for a day, he thought to himself, just a short time. He was unaware of the fact that his spell had been tampered with by a sorceress of great power.

***

            She ran into her room, hastily wiping off her tears. Don't cry, she said to herself, it's all right. Everything will be all right. Who was she fooling? Herself? She wasn't really doing a novel job of it, was she? A shattered breath went through her as she attempted to calm herself. Don't cry, don't cry, she chanted to herself mentally as her personal mantra as she went about gathering up her things. He didn't want to talk to her? He never wanted to see her face again? She'll give him his last wish. She would leave…for him. She would destroy her heart permanently in the process, but she would do it. Because…because she still loved him with all her heart; and if her love was torturing him, she would do anything to take that pain away, even if she had to bear it upon her own shoulders.

            "Maria," Tomoyo called softly. "Ask the earl of Clarence to come by as soon as possible, with discretion; I must ask a favor of him. Tell him"—she paused, then continued—"to bring the papers. He'll know which ones I mean."

            The maidservant bobbed down in a small curtsy and went to do her mistress's bidding without question. "Of course," she simply said.

            "Louisa…could you help me pack? I'm"—Tomoyo's voice broke—"going on a long trip. Do ask one of the menservants to call a carriage to come at midnight." Upon the serving woman's advice and question—"Why does the mistress not take one of his grace's private carriages?"—she merely replied, a hand on the servant's shoulder, "I'm going away for a long time, mind. His grace might have some other important use for them. I might not be able to return them to him for a long time.

            "Now, Louisa, if you don't mind, I would like to have some time alone. Show the earl in when he gets here, but without his grace's knowledge, if you please."

            In the privacy and the scarce light of her gloomy room—she had not tied back the drapes to allow sunlight in—she began to compose a last letter to her husband, the last words she would ever speak—write—to him. This was her farewell; she was determined to let him go on with his life. From the drastic turn of events, she was convinced that they weren't meant to be.

***

            The sorcerer couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't stand another minute of it; if he did, he was sure he turn the entire castle into shambles. But he couldn't stop listening—he refused to believe—

            "O Eric, my only true love!" he heard her voice emerge from the listening spell "Let us be wary, let us hide our loves."

            A deeper, masculine voice whispered to her tenderly. "O, sweet creature! Cursed fate that gave thee to the demon sorcerer. Alas, 'tis our fate to be so close, but separated by the evils of fate. My sweet! Until we meet again! It pains me that you must give your body to that deathly vampire. He devours your youth, and your beauty is wasted for naught!"

            "Hush, darling"—Hiragizawa clenched his teeth at her use of her nickname for him as a word of love to another man—"I must get back, soon. He will suspect! If he finds out, it will be the death of us!"

            "Wait. Leave me, but a kiss to remember to by, my sweet, forbidden lady," Eric said. Eriol ground his teeth together and hurriedly threw together a seeing charm. "We'll see the truth of the matter," he muttered under his breath, "Damned spell must be malfunctioning…"

             A stream of blue fire appeared in his hands and swirled into a view of his wife…in the blond lyrist's arms…laughing. That confirmed everything. Viciously, he ended the spell with a jerk of his hands, then closed his eyes in pain. Did he not suspect that everything was too perfect to be true? Ah, such was his punishment for denying his own instincts, his suspicions.

            "That witch!" he cried vehemently as his fist came crashing down on his elaborate desk. "I'll tear her all to pieces!"

            "All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven: 'Tis gone!—Arise, black Vengeance, from the hollow hell! Yield up, O, Love, thy crown and hearted throne, to tyrannous Hate!"

            His windowpanes cracked and shattered into sharp, jagged pieces under his anger. "That scheming actress will regret her sweet, lying words, for I shall make force them—every one of them—down her despicable throat. I shall destroy her with my own hands and her lover before her terrified eyes!"

***

            His wife was gone, or so the servants said, surprised that he'd asked. Didn't she tell him that she was going away on a long trip? they questioned him curiously. She had told them she would.

            He swore. His severe expletives left the servants cringing in the hallways in fear. The little, lying bitch! She was probably still in her room; he'd teach her a thing or two! He tore open the double doors and stopped in amazement. She was…gone. Her bed was neatly made up, and her jewelry and dresses were still in their closets and cases, but all that was left of here were some papers, waiting for him on her desk.

            With nothing else to vent his anger on, he walked over to the mahogany desk and read the first one on top. He was curious to find out what plan his conniving wife had woven this time, angry as he was, but, instead, found himself to be quite uneasy and in pain as the open wounds of his heart ripped open and bled freely once again. In her fluid, graceful script, she had written on her personal stationery:

_25th of April, 1831_

_            If you are reading this, as I have meant for you to do, I have gone on a prolonged trip—a trip to a place of no return—a place where I cannot run to you when I lie awake, yearning for you whilst you haunt my dreams of sorrow and regret. I suppose you are thinking to yourself, now, about how I was—and how I am—the blackest schemer who you've ever known; and I won't attempt to convince you otherwise—I've tried. And I can imagine you reading this and thinking that this was another one of my ploys to bring you to heel… to bring you begging back to me. To you, I can never be more than a despicable person who would use all things you hold hear to you—such as love, friendship, and trust—and any tactic, however despicable and vile, to satisfy my desires and my avarice. Truly, I wish I were the dreadful monster you have painted me to be; perhaps, then, I wouldn't feel this terrible wrench in my heart as I think of you…perhaps, then, I wouldn't have a wound made fiery with the salts of my tears and the aches of my heart that is gruesome enough to make your precious England bleed and cry tears of blood._

_            If you believe me to be of such repulsive character, if you cannot think otherwise, if you have never truly loved me as you say, it does not matter anymore, because, despite what you might think—and believe you know—I wanted to tell you, one final time…if you doubt me and slander my name…if you despise me…even if you believe every word out of my mouth is false…I tell you now, do not deny my love. If you curse me and call me a scheming liar, I shall believe it also, for I trust you and have always trusted you; but do not forget, then, that I have loved you from the depths of my scheming heart. That is all I ask of you…it is my last request, if you have ever truly loved an "image" of me, as you say. _

_            I go to take away your burdens, so you may continue with your life with happiness and renewed vigor. I hope, with my absence, you would think no more of your heavy heart and your sorrows and your weary mind. Say "that sinner has taken away my misery; it is upon her soul as she rightly deserved" and move on with your life, I pray. I have taken upon myself the liberty of consulting a solicitor to annul or, if necessary, divorce us, so you may find another deserving woman; surely I do not wish to permanently chain you to me, and, seeing that this is inevitable, I deemed it necessary to do so as quickly as time allows. An annulment, I hear, is not possible, for what reason was there between us that our marriage was illegal by the laws of __England__ and of God? Thus, I have had the solicitor draw up divorce papers on the grounds of irreconcilable differences—I thought it tactful—and on my adultery—as you have accused me. My reputation is of no import where I go…worry not about me…I have already affixed my signature to the document; it only requires yours to make the separation official._

_            Well then, my love, I believe this is a last farewell. I apologize for such a long letter from so unworthy a person, and I bid you adieu with wishes of future health and happiness and no regret._

_                                                                                                            With good wishes,_

_                                                                                                            Tomoyo_

            He shoved the letter aside and picked up the next sheet of paper, scrawled with a solicitor's smooth writing. It was, as she described, a divorce statement, and he knew why she was able to have it drawn up so quickly without having to first go to court. She had wanted no financial settlement from him, and she had admitted, of her own free will, that she was an adulteress. What argument was there to present before the House of Lords? None. Absolutely nothing. All it needed was his signature…to end his memories of such incredible joy and happiness and of such devastating heartaches. All it need was a black scribble upon the crisp, whiteness of the paper, waiting for his final act…

            He took up her quill, which had been resting in the same position it always had been when she had been present, in trembling hands…

***

            The sorcerer's wife hugged her friend, the lyrist, fiercely in an embrace she did not know her husband was watching. "Thank you, Eric, for your help. I've been trying to plan a secret celebration for my husband's birthday in a fortnight, and it's been very trying. More so, when I must deny everything while he looks at me levelly with his beautiful eyes; they make me feel like a naughty child. I sincerely hope I can hold out a couple more days…"

            "He makes you happy, it seems," Eric said quietly.

            She sobered as she looked up at him. "He does make me happy. I love him."

            "You will make him happier once you tell him you carry his child."

            She brightened. "He will be happy, no?"

            "Of course, he will, mon amie…of course, "he chuckled as he patted her hand in reassurance. "Now off you go, my dear. You are in a delicate condition, after all."

            She grinned. "Already starting to pamper me, hm?"

            He smiled back. "In your dreams. I bet—I know—your 'wonderful, lovely, handsome' husband is already spoiling you enough."

            "Jealous?"

            "Yes."

            She put an expression of fake shock on her face. "Seriously, you're gay? How come you never told me? We were supposed to be chums, you know…honest to the end?"

            He tweaked her nose, amused. "I wasn't gay the last time I checked. I'm jealous of your husband, silly."

            "Too bad," she said flippantly, knowing he was teasing her. "I'm going back home, Eric. I'll see you tomorrow."

***

            It seemed to her that her husband, the sorcerer, wasn't at all thrilled when he heard of her pregnancy. Instead, his visage grew grim and became as hard as a chip of granite stone. "Are you unwell, my lord?" she finally asked him. "Is there something you require?

            He waved her cool hands away. "'Tis nothing of your concern," he told her, pulling away from her touch. "Say, answer a question for me. What would you do if you found that a person who you most trusted betrayed you?"

            She was silent. "I don't know," she replied, finally. "I have never been in such a situation before."

            "Then I shall judge as I see fit." His savage expression frightened her. His face was like a sheet of ice, imperturbable and smooth, but his eyes…she shuddered and looked away. "I won't see you for a while, wife," he told her nonchalantly as if it were a daily occurrence, "due to some serious responsibilities I must attend to…nine months to be exact."

            When she opened her mouth to protest—his surprise party was in two weeks—he held up his held in a gesture of silence. "It is my final decision, and my wish that you reflect upon the wrongs you have committed during this time I am absent from you." And with that he left as abruptly as he had appeared.

            Never did it occur to him to check his spells, the man-creature said. Never did he find the need to use his other workings to discover or confirm the truth. As far as he was concerned, his wife was responsible for what he thought to be a heinous crime. And the penalty was death. 

            Only the thought of his child stopped him from murdering his wife in cold blood. No, don't be silly. He didn't love his son like _that. _It was not a love between a father and his unborn child that thwarted the cold-hearted sorcerer from his killing. It was the knowledge that something of his—his blood—was in his child. It was his sense of possession that checked him from destroying his wife that night. So quickly did his love turn into black hatred; so fickle and unsure he was, like the pale moon, which waxes and wanes as it pleases.

            Days grew into weeks; weeks grew into months; and these months became nine in number. The sorcerer's faithful wife gave birth to a healthy boy with cerulean eyes, so like his father's; and his mother hoped that her husband would come to see her and tell her, in his own gentle way, how proud he was of her and their child.

            He came, for the first time in months, only to examine his child with grim satisfaction. He carelessly handed him to a woman who was to take care of him, ignoring his wife's protesting cries, and he said only two words to the midwives and servants: "Leave us."

            They left without question, for they feared him with all their hearts; he was a changed man, once again a sinister sorcerer who oppressed his people. "You have been unfaithful to me," he stated in a deadly, quiet voice. "You have been having affairs with your precious lyrist."

            His wife looked up at him in shock and confusion. "What are you talking about?"

            "Don't lie to me, darling," he said, his vicious tone clashing with the gentle endearment. "I swear to you, if you lie to me, your fate will be worse than what I have decided it to be."

            "I tell you the truth. I—"

            A garrote—a slim, cutting piece of string—found its way around her throat and closed tightly. She tried to scream, but it was slowly crushing her windpipe; she clawed at her neck until the skin peeled and her fingers slipped in her own blood, but he only pulled it tighter. "O treacherous, treacherous wife!" he cried. "So unfaithful…so full of deceptions and lies!

            Her struggle grew more desperate as her lungs began to protest her lack of air. Her hands grew slick with red liquid and, with every attempt to save herself, she only managed to rip her own flesh. "Did you think you can make a fool out of me and escape with your life? I do hope you've made your peace with whomever your God is, dear one."

            With one swift jerk, he broke her neck and let her drop to her bed. "You die in your tainted bed, wife, to join your lover who has already passed to the realms of the dead. Such is the penalty I exact from you. So it has been written in my books. So it has been done. Now, you are merely a name, my dear, nothing more." He summoned the nurse in—she gave a small scream at the horribly twisted corpse—and took his son in his arms. "Look upon your mother as faithless as the wind," he said. "Look upon her fate and learn, my son. Never love anyone, especially a woman. To be loved is to destroy and to love is to be the one destroyed. Remember that."

            Was that a bit too cruel? Is that a tear that glimmers in the corners of your eyes? Human love always ends in tragedy. Is this a love story, you ask? Of course it is. Is it always necessary for it to end happy for the love to have been real?

            There's love that always forgives, trusts, and sacrifices for its object. Then there's love that abandons, destroys, and works in the blood like poison.

***

Credits:

--"O, beware, my lord, of Jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock…"

            "I'll tear her all to pieces."

            "All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven: 'Tis gone!..."

                        From Shakespeare's Othello

--Alternating between past and present, though probably used by many authors (and though I planned months before to use it) I give credit to Cassandra Claire for her brilliant use of it. I might have used a similar approach. The quote about love at the very end "To be loved is to destroy and to love is to be the one destroyed" is hers. Couple of other of her ideas are floating around.

--The idea about dytopia, nightmare world, is from George Orwell's 1984. Some are quotes. Some are my words.

Next Chapter:

1) Is Eriol's ancestor a clue to what will happen to Tomoyo and Eriol or just a story to spook you out? (Forshadowing or not?) 2) Will Eriol divorce Tomoyo once and for all? 3) Where does  Tomoyo go? 4) What's this favor Tomoyo asks of Jon? 5) Is Eriol as monstrous as his ancestor? 6) Will Eriol find Tomoyo? 7) The sorceress cursed Eriol's ancestor. Guess who's the sorceress incarnate in the present time? No, she's not aware of her family line; it almost seems as though it was determined by fate. 

Find out next chapter. ^_^…Ja ne. 

AN: Eriol does not have magical powers. As will be explained later, his ancestor was the first Hiragizawa; his line, through breeding with non-magical humans, loses its magic by the time Eriol is born. This is also the case with all formerly magical families.


	24. notice

Dear Readers,  
  
You probably came here, thinking that this was the next chapter.well.BUMMER, IT ISN'T.  
  
I apologize for the long waiting and I reluctantly tell you now that I still haven't finished writing my chapter. Perhaps it is because no inspiration has struck me or it is because I am an extraordinarily lazy person. I apologize; I have absolutely no excuse other than the fact that I had a large amount of work and finals coming up. However, I think it is partially due to the fact that a lot of rather depressing scenes are coming up and I do not wish to write it. But it is essential to the story and its ending; thus, I shall try to stop procrastinating and try to get a move on it. Please leave your suggestions, comments, and further reviews to aid me in this; I do check my stats everyday for input. Thanx. 


	25. Words and Their Lies

Sorry I was so busy, but here's snippet…

Chap. 23   Words and Their Lies

            He saw a pair of feet in front of his bleary vision and he shook his head, hoping he was dreaming. Who the hell was at this time of the night, in his private corner, invading his damned property?! Of course, it was questionable whether an alleyway in the slums of London could be considered a private property of any sort. But this man was determined that this was his by right and, he thought, by the age old notion of "first come first serve" and he'd be damned if he would relinquish it readily.  " 'oo the 'ell are you," he said in a drunken drawl, while hoisting his whiskey bottle as a sort of weapon. "Get outta 'ere."

            "I'm afraid that's not possible," a cool, calculating voice responded mockingly from the darkness of the shadows. The man looked up to see contemptuous silver-grey eyes gazing down at him. "You see, my good man, we require a small favor from you." Through his distorted, drugged vision, he thought he saw Grey Eyes pull out a strangely-shaped gun out of his pocket and, though his brain seemed to scream at him to move, the man's reflexes were slow and clumsy. He felt a needle piercing his flesh and, fatigued and suddenly feeling slumberous, he let himself drift into darkness.

            "I'm sure you could be of use to us," the voice said silkily. It was strange; the voice reminded him of a venomous snake, coaxing a timid mouse into its deadly grip. That was the man's last thought before he sank into total oblivion and the shadows that countless others had passed on the path to misery and ruin.

*******

            Katherine reclined comfortably in her favorite chair as she read a book—the third in a series of seven—titled "Revenge: How to Properly Go about It in an Elegant Fashion". With a tray of tea and crumpets at her side, she smiled wickedly as she went through a rather amusing list of possible schemes and manipulations, which were guaranteed (by the author, anyway) to cause desperation and absolute anguish in the chosen victim. So engrossed was she—not very surprising, considering her sadistic nature—that she did not notice the entrance of a grey-eyed man into her extravagant villa, dragging a bedraggled, and rather limp, bundle of flesh.

            "Katherine." That one word jerked her awake from her dream world where she was blissfully and gleefully torturing Eriol. "Must you always interrupt me in my wonderful daydreams, Collins?" she snapped irritably.

            His mouth curved slightly at the edges. "Temper, temper," he admonished her in a faintly amused voice. "You can make your dreams a reality soon enough."

            Katherine sniffed disdainfully and daintily picked up a cake with her blood-painted nails. "Let's hope so…for your sake."

            In a flash, he had her by her throat and was applying severe pressure on her windpipe. With forced calm and serenity, Katherine ripped through his face with her nails; she had painted them with her special mixture of blood (from her former victims, of course) and a rare, enamel-like poison that killed any human being the moment it entered into the bloodstream.

             To her startled surprise, however, he did not seem to be affected in the least; an acrid smoke escaped from the torn flesh as the bloody wounds merely healed in seconds.  "Don't talk to me in that condescending way, my dear," he said in a deadpan voice. With that, he captured her lips in a cruel, lingering kiss. "I don't trust you any more than you trust me, my little clawed kitten." He released her abruptly, his eyes cold and cruel—eyes that were never-ending wells of emptiness and steel. "You'll obey your orders or die in defiance, understand? If you want your revenge, you'll have to get it my way." He walked past her as if nothing happened as she gazed at him in fear and anger.

            "Damn you!" she snarled in frustration, knowing that nothing she said could penetrate that cold, impermeable armor he drew around himself like a blanket. She flung her hand out to indicate the huddled body on the velvet floor. "Why in hell did you bring _him_ here? At least tell me that."

            He blatantly ignored her and made his way toward his bedroom in a casual manner. "What is he to us? We were finished with him, weren't we?" she screamed at his retreating form. "Weren't we?!"

            He spoke without turning to face her and Katherine knew that he was laughing at her, albeit silently. "There's one endearing trait that you have, Kate dearest, which could get you into serious trouble: Carelessness. You do not abandon a man who still has classified information; he could betray us to the Bow Street Runners"—she could hear the amusement in his voice—"As cruel as you are, my rebellious cat, you haven't the heart to properly dispose of one man who could ruin our plans. That's the difference between you and me; you try to avoid murder unless it's absolutely necessary. You were unable to clearly judge the threat this man poses."

            She was silent. "Why didn't you kill him?" she questioned, finally. "You brought him here alive…"

            "I should like to torture him. I should also like to get him into trouble with the authorities first and watch in delight as he lands in prison. But I have not time for such games."

            "Then…why?"

            "That is for me to know and you to find out. They say 'curiosity killed the cat'. I hope I won't have to kill you for interfering with my plans due to your curious nature. That pale skin of yours…it makes me want to destroy it…it makes me want to feel your blood running down my hands…

            "I know what brought you to me, my sweet. I know that you would have been with him if he had accepted you. And I know all about your former victims. Just remember, I'm watching you."

*******

            Eriol scribbled his name haphazardly across the appropriate line and threw the ink bottle into wall where it splintered into uneven fragments; black ink dripped down the pristine walls like an omen that darkness was taking over the former happiness of his life. With that same blackness, he had given his woman away; with that ink, he had made it clear that he no longer acknowledged her as a significant person in his life.

            He slumped tiredly in the nearest chair and then, flinching, stood up stiffly; the plush, red chair had been one of Tomoyo's favorites. His eyes scrutinized her room and, angry, he stalked out into his own. His gaze was drawn immediately to his enormous bed—he was extremely tired—but he had to look away because memories of her lived in it. As he walked into every bedroom, ballroom, dining halls, and even the servants' kitchen, he saw ghosts of her laughing eyes and her teasing smile. She had said she wanted to free him from his unhappiness; she had lied. His house still tingled with her presence as if it could not forget her for all eternity—as if it was showing him that he, himself, could not forget her for all time.

********

            The birds sang their happy, joyful songs as Tomoyo watched in fascination and intent interest. She had been living here, at this small cottage on one of Jon's country estates, since two weeks ago. He had offered her the manor for her use, but she had refused—_I can't accept that, Jon. It's too much, but thank you anyway._—despite Jon's fervent insistence that she would be doing him a favor by taking using the usually unoccupied estate. Plus, he argued, there was a fleet of servants to cater to her every need and comfort; wouldn't that be better, he had asked her. And she had just refused without any sort of reconsideration.

            It wasn't because she thought her friend really didn't mean for her to live in his manor; she knew that he genuinely meant what he had said. The problem wasn't him. It was she. Despite her sunny expression, she still harbored a secret pain inside; her heart was still bleeding. And she knew she couldn't go back to her old way of life, perhaps, even …never…this hurt inside of her might never heal completely. She wanted peace and shelter away from her troubles, not some immense house that would painfully remind her of all her fears and tears. She wanted to be able to think of Eriol, not as someone who scarred her for life, but as someone who had given her the greatest memories of her life. She did not regret having met him and having loved him more than herself because she knew…that if she had never known him…she would have gone through life, lost forever, and unable to know why…

            _Eriol, she said silently,__ it's hard to stay away from you; it's already draining me, my love. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stand this torment of being without you. But you are my everything…For you, I can do anything, even if it kills me to make it come true._

******

            "There's always the girl," Katherine said lightly. "We can use—hurt—her to furthur torture Eriol—"

            "No."

            "What?" she asked, startled by his vehement disagreement. "Our purpose is to destroy Eriol, is it not? Why not use all the convenient tools at hand? He seemed to love her very much and—"

            "Tomoyo will not be harmed; I will personally visit my wrath on your head if you harm her in any way. And," he paused for breath, "never tell me that THAT MAN loves her, do you understand? He doesn't love her and he has never loved her. That is the truth."

            "That witch stole him from me! She needs to be punished!! It's part of my vengeance. I refuse for you to—"

            "What will you do if I refuse you?" he interrupted her softly. 

            She was rendered speechless for a brief moment, and then she became enraged and furious. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you love her!" she screamed.

            "I do."

            "You've never met her, so how can you love her?"

            He smiled slightly and bowed his head, causing strands of blond hair to fall into his eyes. "I have met her," he closed his eyes in remembrance, "I have met her in my past life—my first life."

            "What gibberish are you speaking now?"

            "It is not for you to understand."


	26. Where Are You Now?

^_^….erg…been very busy with a lot of stuff…you know the excuses…yeah, yeah, bad BAD me…humph…um….I'm still busy with hw and whatnot (yes, my school is cruel), but, feeling guilty for making my dear readers suffer, I decided to post a short snippet. Hope you enjoy it. Hm…this one's a bit different…usually, I don't do first person POV, but in this case, I made an exception. Obviously, we get to see the feelings of my delectable and confuzzled Eriol…yay!!

Chap. 24

            It was a dismal grey outside as the rain pattered gently onto the blooming roses in the garden; water droplets dripped like crystal tears from the soft, mournful faces of the flowers currently suffused with a becoming crimson blush. It was the type of weather that perfectly matched the mood of their owner—the dark silhouette of a man standing at the extravagant windows.

            **Tomoyo****, where are you? The shadow lifted one hand to the cool glass, hoping it would lower the burning heat infusing his skin. _You have hurt me more than you could ever fathom; these wounds that still bleed from my unmarked throat—they were the last things you've given me to remember you. This hurt, this pain, this void…Isn't it funny how I treasure it? I hold it because it is all I have left of you._ These words were spoken silently, his breath white from the chill of the air, and they hung like icicles from the roof until they were swallowed by the stagnant air.**

            **I should hate you _I want to hate you, to despise you, to revile you…perhaps that was why I was so cruel to you when I found proof of your infidelity…But I couldn't. I want to want to hurt you…to punish you…but, even now, I can't. Why? Tell me the reasons…why…_**

_            **Still… **__I find that, even as hatred grows like a strangling vine around my heart, I love you. Sometimes, often, this terrible feeling makes me want to kill you…just to prove that I truly don't feel that feeling for you anymore. Indeed, how can one kill someone he loves? If I could successfully hurt you, it would be the ultimate evidence that I hold nothing inside for you._

_             **Yet**…why is it that my heart breaks when I see tears in your eyes? Why do I still melt when I see your beloved—no, false—face? Could it be that…my heart thinks you are still worthy of being cherished, loved?_

_            **Confusion **__Honestly__, what do I really feel? Is it revenge, forgiveness, regret? The path of memories and regrets is a lonely one; the "could have been"s, the "what if"s, the incessant questions—their carcasses lay scattered along that desolate road you've forced me to walk. My silent, bloody tread tarnishes that sacred ground as I make my way down that path…alone._

_            **Forgetfulness **__My__ heart and my head argue and clash; they don't seem to want to reach a logical agreement. Perhaps I should wait for them to work out a solution, but I can't stand this chaos in my head much longer. I need a direct answer, but they don't provide one…and so, I'll choose the only path that's open…and so, I'll choose to forget._

_            I'm afraid that I'll hurt you if I were to lay eyes on you again and…I'm afraid that I'll ask you to come back, scattering all my pride to the winds. And so…I'll sacrifice who I am and pray to forget…_

_You.___

_My identity.___

_All because the "me" I have cherished cannot live without you by my side…_

_And…because…I can't stand that I still love you, and my love can't bear the hatred I hold for you in my heart…_

_This is for both you and me…for our survival…_

_Forgive me, Tomoyo…love._


	27. The Falling of Rose Petals

Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, now that we know what cute, depressed Eriol is thinking, we must know what our heroine is thinking too, ne? No matter what, we're riding this out to the end, folks. Damn…there's a lot to put in later chapters…Holy…how am I supposed to manage all of this with my time schedule? -_-;;;….I'll figure out a way to manage….darn. I have it all planned out…and my head is already planning another story…

Chap. 25

            She was slowly, but surely, wasting away. She had no reason, no will to live any longer. Eriol had been her purpose, her happiness, her drive to survive, and now, he was…gone. Still, she refused to forget memories of him—he'd been the happiest years of her life—because she couldn't be Tomoyo, could exist without them…without him. She couldn't remain herself without what precious remnants she had of that man—the man who had judged her without a proper trial. That man whose rejection had held her life like a liquid in a glass vial and, upon its fracturing, the precious fluid had been lost to that vast ocean and the endless waves that composed it, becoming one with so many other lost souls that still mourned their fate; his vehement insults and disparagements, flung like a swiftly-released arrow, skewered her heart. 

/ Do you ache for me as I ache for you? /

            And, in holding onto these memories, she condemned herself to remember that which held the most heartache and overwhelming tragedy.

/ I can never forget you because you are my identity. /

/ Eriol…/

/You know I can never forget myself. /

            Bearing that heavy burden—grief, sorrow, and hopelessness—she felt her heart break once again like a shattered promise as she reached out for something that wasn't there any longer.

/ Forgive my stupidity, Eriol. I was too late. /

/ I couldn't convince you. /

            Strangely enough, however, she felt a kind of glimmer of light find its way into her heart, almost ungraspable, at the edges of her perception.  The one gift that humans have, she mused, was the ability to love and, knowing that object of one's affection would eventually and inevitably die, one was able to reach out in grief, in that sorrow, in that affection. She, having loved, had fulfilled that purpose as a wife, as a woman, as a human being.

/ Eriol, I want to stay. Will you let me stay in your heart? /

            Now, she could let him go, for this lifetime at least. She could give him his happiness with someone else for this lifetime, though she could never truly let him go in spirit. If her physical shell died, couldn't she make his wish come true? Was not his wish to never see her again? 

/In going away like this, I find true happiness…because I know it is for you…Eriol. /

/ Now, I hold onto only one wish…/

/ I wish that as I walk blindly into the darkness…as I stumble along those uneven paths…/

/ As I call, lost and weary…/

/ May my wandering heart find you in my darkest hour…/

/ And rest, ever so peacefully, in the gentle cradle of your arms…/

/Eriol, love. /


	28. Reeling in the Catch: It finally begins

Chap. 28 Reeling in the Catch

            The harsh snow rushed around him like a wave, pummeling him…destroying him…and he gave himself to the howling God of the winter winds of his own accord; the swirling winds encircled his arms, his body, his soul as it prepared him for the ultimate sacrifice—a preserving of the pain-wrought heart, beautiful in its utter desolation—as a gift to the God of Time and Death. Slowly. Slowly, but Closer came the inevitable end…an end to the wrenching heartache…

No…

Two arms went around him, warm and vibrant with life. You're mine, that grip seemed to say, I've finally brought you here to me. 

For one blessed moment, Eriol thought it was Tomoyo holding him—Tomoyo who had come through the frigid snow to save him—Tomoyo who had come to show him that everything had been a bad nightmare, brought about by his paranoid mind. But the hands, though so alike, were not his wife's—the nails were painted a vivid, vermilion red, a hue that could only mean…

"Katherine," he said aloud, first in a ghostly whisper, then in a poison-laden voice. He wrenched free in a burst of energy he did not know was existent within his self-induced lassitude and whirled around, expecting to see an expression of haughty laughter or scorn on her face; to his surprise, he only saw a solemn smile. "Now is not your time," she said gently, "now is not your time to go."

"I choose my own time," he said wearily, "don't interfere. You are, after all, the one who brought this heartbreak upon me."

"I?"

"You."

"Perhaps a clarification is in order. I'm in love with you, Eriol," she said softly, tears flowing down her pale, beautiful face. "Maybe, at first, I was jealous and I did want to break you and Tomoyo apart. But I'm human…now that you're feeling it, you could understand my pain at having someone torn away…but I swear to you, I did give up on you after that moment of childish revenge. I tried to forget—I swear I did!—but I couldn't!

"But Eriol, despite my anger, I never really betrayed you. Whatever I did, I did it openly. You must realize that I never lied to you; your wife's jewelry, her unfaithfulness, I told you truthfully at my own risk"—her voice broke in a display of desperation—"I never meant to cause you pain! I just didn't want you to be an ignorant fool, while people gossiped behind your back…."

"Please…all I ask of you is a chance…please…….."

_Please._

That word brought back memories of the past….

_Tears ran down his wife's face. " Please…Can't you love me just a little? Just one more time?"_

_His vehement and harsh  response: "Get out of here."_

He remembered how he had wanted to give in, how he had wanted to ignore everything laid before him and pretend once again.

"Please," Katherine repeated tearfully. "Please. Let me help you forget. Let me comfort you."

The need to forget and the strange, paradoxical desire to have forgiven his wife at the remembered point in time….they overwhelmed him. Maybe…just maybe he could go on. Maybe she could help him erase these memories from his head….and maybe, for the first time, he could say…yes….

But, nevertheless, he was still surprised at the word that came out of his mouth: "Yes."

In the distance, a blond-haired man smiled as he watched the interaction between his two pawns. "Ah, Katherine, what a splendid actress you are," he sighed, stretching as if he had merely been watching a movie—or a play, as is more appropriate at that time. "Such a poisonous little kitty." And, as if she had heard his words, Katherine…smiled….


End file.
